In the Kingdom

Posts tagged love

Love is an early morning on Bleecker Street
at a nameless place somewhere on the way to work
worth four dollar signs
and the cheapest wine one can handle

Love is a hand not on the chest,
but through,
transcending, reaching
until raw and inside out—
a heart on a platter
served cold

-MT, 4/16/13

Sometimes I feel like I get drunk on coffee. That is, when I’m lonely or feeling claustrophobic I go to coffee shops and order a large coffee. I sit there imbibing all the warm, earthy, bitter goodness and feel my mood slowly elevating. I can feel the synapses igniting, the chemicals in my brain swirling and I get, for a brief moment, happier than I could ever hope to be with this crippling depression. I start to get vocal, creative, cataclysmic with thought and emotion. That’s when I start texting people about how much I love them, the depraved, caffeinated anxiousness whirring in the background, ever so fearful of abandonment and being alone. When it all fades, I look at my scribblings and professions of love and respect with disdain. Who am I fooling? I am a charlatan. A deluded writer bestowed no other talent than to masquerade my own awfulness and that of the world in which we live through man made sounds and symbols that mean nothing in the thick of it. Words cannot stop death. Words cannot stop truth.

Yet I’m always left with this lump of regret that I never find my courage in this web I’ve spun to reach out to this one particular soul. Why is it in my fear of being alone despite my so obvious ills that I cannot fathom a tapestry of words extravagant enough, a cup of coffee vast enough to allow me to say something to him?

Apparently words cannot stop the throes of love either.

Regression

If it’s true what they say
about past lives and the age
of our souls,
then I know this to be
the best I’ve ever lived
because in it
I found you

M.T., 3/29/13