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6.aug.09 (something of a mystery)
by Morgan D Hafele
something of a mystery 6-aug-09
i haven't felt this way for a long time. do you remember when we still whispered pretty little i love yous ? and meant it? I remember when i used to wait on baited breath for your next word. and maybe the truth is hidden somewhere in the grimey moldy mildewy cracked tiles. or maybe we just lost something. something that was very dear to us. too bad we didn't think to leave any bread crumbs along the way. honey i don't remember what turn led us astray, but i remember the sweetest i've had i've floated away with you. we drifted hungrily through dreams. i remember the first time you said, "i miss you," while you looked in my eyes. i think i felt, no. i knew you would lie to me forever and because i've never been very good at at learning lessons, i'll just follow suite. please don't pretend this paints you the bad guy. we're not playing cops and robbers. this is real life. it's something like the death sentence. constantly between your last cigarette and your last breath. now take a breath. suck in the fresh air. didn't we promise to ride the wind to the sun and the moon just to prove that this really is heaven? but you also swore that this is hell. i watched you on the deck squinting your runny left eye from the careless smoke that wandered from your cigarette while i slowly exhaled my own smoke like a tired volcano, letting it float heavily around my chin. the snow was falling on us so thick that we could only distinguish each other by our dark hair and fading freckles. our eyes were so bright i swear they were reflecting blue and green off of the huge clumps of snowflakes leaving an ocean between us. we should have known then that the distance we would drift would be greater than we were willing or ready to weather and i place no blame on your shoulders the fault is split between us. you told me each dragg you took felt like you were breathing in me. i told you it was because i was giving you my soul for safe keeping. your giggling found it's way to me and we let it infect us and that gave birth to laughing in the fashioned for stoners in big budget hollywood comedies. we both needed another cigarette so i lit two at once and gently passed yours to your waiting lips. you inhaled deeply. the cherry lit up and the bright red burned through the falling snow. it cast a fresh glow that made it feel like we were falling through the countless galaxies. when you exhaled the thick smoke and steam came together as clouds in the words you words you spoke. i had never heard them directed toward me like that before i love you! then you said this life really is hell lets take this thing to the end. i stepped through your still floating words that lifted all of my pain away. tell me please where did we go wrong?08/07/2009 Author's Note: it is what it is, there's the picture of how i wrote it, and the text below to make things easier on you. i know it's kind of rough to read in a spiral.
Posted on 08/08/2009
Copyright © 2024 Morgan D Hafele
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 08/08/09 at 12:54 PM Both fascinating and troubling! You catch the mood of the piece in the spiral context. (Glad you printed it out so reader doesn't get dizzy trying to read it. :0)) |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/08/09 at 06:18 PM "didn't we promise to ride the wind to the sun and the moon just to prove that this really is heaven?" This fantastic piece is so evocative. The moments of sharing, touching nature, feeling for each other. But I definately get the sense that it was you who were reaching out through the smoke and the snow to try to touch the soul of your lover. Thanks for sharing "what is" Morgan. |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 08/10/09 at 10:08 PM Another facet of cigarette emotions. This is painful and real and I love the way it came out (but definitely appreciate the type-out). |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 08/12/09 at 10:21 PM Perhaps the clue is in the circular format? I'm not a graphologist, so reading between the lines is redundancy I can't afford; but what's there, in grayscale, generates an impressive array of colours. |
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 09/14/09 at 02:22 AM i love the picture of how you wrote it, great job |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 12/06/09 at 12:03 AM Really good job- I loved the format! |
| Posted by Britt Zimmerman on 01/09/10 at 02:56 AM Shook my bones and rattled my core, as always! AWESOME! |
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