Ciara Ashley Johnson

empty spaces between us.

engaged conversations, forgotten embraces, distracted by the bodies that surround us.

dim lights and screaming music, i forgot to find you.

smoke my thoughts outside and ramble on the happenings of yesterday.

i remember to find you and become distracted by giving undeserved apologies to obnoxious attitudes.   angry and anxious, i rush for cover from my own behavior.

uncomforted and ignored.

the blood rushed from my head and i found myself fighting my own temper.

alcohol mixes with feelings.  days passed,

i should have just stayed under your covers tonight. that’s all i came for anyways.

instead i find myself dissatisfied by the taste in my mouth.

questioning patterns,

crying the blues.

unhappy in love in these moments. i found you disconnected, worried about others, leaving none for me.

these cold fingers found me holding a steering wheel, ready to fall back to my own space, but still unable to leave you at yours.

these blue fingers found me closing your bedroom door, catching my breath from the movement of never wanting to shape like this again.

i may create my own hell, but you feed the fire that i burn in.

i feel like swollen metal.

i know it’s impossible.

you don’t need to tell me different.

let’s just lay quietly. please.

as my edges show rounded. hard to believe, i know.

but here it is.

dull. and exhausted.

the c in me can barely breathe

so come close

and hold me tight.

i melt beneath your heat.

scorching inside.

dig a little bit deeper.

when i close my eyes

the blackness fades to blonde.

here is where you can find me,

resting against the slow melody that’s playing

sullen and sweet.

there’s an ache in the pit of my stomach that doesn’t  want to let go of my chest.

it’s married to the twitch in my fingertips.

drenched in whats desolate

the quietness of the cold keys keep me humming.

enveloped.

a part that i’m not familiar with is forcing its way through the surface.

what a strange place to find myself. what a peculiar way to leave me feeling.

and what for?

what do you want with me here in this new fold?

what am i to do with you?

it’s not fair, you see, to move me through my days

feeling helpless.  feeling scared.

wounded.

increasingly hesitant. and quiet.

all these moments leave me achy.

give me the moments to fight through this filter.

i have little left to hide in this weakened  state of mind.

and as i tear through the static that vibrates just beneath the surface

i wonder.

will it come again?

what is all this for?

walking slightly ahead, this path seems familiar.

in the beginning

the wind blows a certain direction that sweeps my hair, hiding my face.

as i sway in the flow,

hands pull the streams away from disguising my likeness.

i see you see me.

and i smile

and for a moment, i can feel only the distance between us.

with the passing of time goes my fear.

flashes of heartbreak

of detachment

of intent

fall to the ground like leaves loose above head.

this wind alters emotions.

quick enough to change my direction

i tighten my coat just above my neck.

turning face to hide my eyes.

don’t look now.  don’t notice my defense unfolding.

camp fire cold. blasphemy filled the ears and all i thought was you.

in a madness of comfort for the weary. you and i brought the torture down.

a funny story. and a tormented lifestyle.

you and me.

we will never win the game we play.

instead play chess all night until one loses.

in this case it could be me..

i need you.

 

silent makers of the wind breaks open
miniature flasks of happy tortures
blooming in unopened sunlight,
smiles forcefully turn ripped pages
these many chapters write their own books
and bluebirds capture uneasy tears flowing
from deep waters
a thousand sunsets wouldn’t explain this
darkness in beauty
the falling sky decides next hour
when rain evaporates and crystals are clear
again… this waiting fails
though fails me not,for lessons breathe fire
volcanos magnify and exploding soothes.