MeliGoesRogue

I have long been at war with time. So often I find myself begging for the hours to pass and yet in the height of ecstasy begging the seconds to stay. So often we find ourselves in these same moments, angry at the present and anxious for the future. Yet when the future becomes the present the conflict returns.

I sit in the darkness. My finger tips grazing my skin, my head turning slightly to expose my neck. I imagine him behind me, quelling his thirst to devour with the desire to make each of these seconds last. Soon the lights will come on and he will disappear into the memory box of my mind. He is not here, I have never felt his hands, his breath in my ear. Time has not started for us and yet it seems to be moving forward without us. My skin aging, the inside of me already dying. Each day we have one less with each other. I lean back in my chair and look up to the sky, it is not answers I seek but rather its illumination. The suite plays along with the leaves that quietly fall and the creatures which move thru the bushes, leaning in to hear my story. My lips do not part and yet they draw closer.

My eyes have begun to adjust and now I can see the shadows from the trees, my own shadow looming close behind.

I was not meant for close quarters. Even out here in the garden I can see the walls.

I want to be on the beach again, were there were no walls. Only the moon that shone just for me. The water quietly coming closer, whispering, beckoning me in. My feet cold against the rocks “ just a dip” I said, but soon I was beneath the surface, unable to see, yet finally free. I could feel the seaweed wrapping around my legs pulling me down into her depths. Air no longer needed. I closed my eyes, soon I no longer felt the waves from above, in its place was the rocking of the current beneath my feet. Soon the body that I inhabited would beg me to the surface as the air I no longer had pushed my body down. I could only pull up, up to the surface up to the walls that would soon enclose me. I sat on the log marooned on a rock surrounded by water. My body shivering but I remained still, unable to find the warmth of a home that was not my own. I swam back to shore, the moon illuminating the steps up to the road and yet it shone brighter down here on the beach on me. My long hair wet, dripping down on the dry rocks below. I could hear them calling me in the distance, I had to turn back. As I took the first step I could feel his hand pulling me up guiding me around the bend of the staircase. My eyes closed, I never missed a step. Soon the trees covered me and I could no longer see the moon but instead the streetlight urging me up the hill.

I am back in my garden and there she is again. Beautifully bright and seemingly white. I lean back again as the wine takes affect and I see her dark spots. The craters so big they create a shadow I can see hundreds of thousands of miles away. The last of the wine is poured out and the Suite remains on repeat. My skin taut and tense but no longer waiting. The moon as far from me as he is. The black space between us is only time, seasons changing, leaves falling and winter winds quietly whistling, caressing my skin until one day he will.

My head is spinning now, my arched back desperate for the comfort of a bed and my head in need of a pillow for rest. I resist in the hopes of seeing the fruits of this battle, this war where today’s enemy could be tomorrow’s love. We are not so different, we are the same person on different sides.