SOL: Invasive

You thrust your filthy
Fingers into every
Aspect of my life.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 86.”

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MIND: Consciousness

If her past were your past, her pain your pain, her level of consciousness your level of consciousness, you would think and act exactly as she does. With this realization comes forgiveness, compassion and peace.

// Eckhart Tolle

SOL: Silhouette

I want to know her.
Follow the trajectory of her
Life if only for a day – I would settle for a few hours.
Waking up inside her, knowing what turns
Her out – ablaze with the feeling of watching her step
From the shower, covered in light, morning dew
The impatient sun’s rays setting her entire body on fire.
I want to be that tug in the bottom of her navel,
I want to pull her down. I want to make her new.
The deep carnal desire of irrational possession, squeezing skin
In futile attempts to leave her marked with something
Tangible, a perpetual reminder that this was real, that I was
There. We were together. It would be enough.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Nothing is as Frustrating as Desire Unfulfilled.”

MIND: Equanimity

Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better take things as they come along with patience and equanimity.

// Carl Jung

SOL: Cauterize

04.08.2019.
In stolen moments I reflect on all that
You have done to me, everything that has changed since the
Dark year we spent together.
I am still trying to forgive you. I would be lying if I said
Some of your words don’t still haunt me; the harsh observations you made
About my character, some of which still ring true – I jump planes and change countries,
Trying to reconcile a version of myself that fits well. It has taken years for me to
Make peace with what we did to each other. Three years later I flew to your
Country and walked down your street.
Each step strained the muscles in my leg, my hair stood on edge, my heart
Was a great chained beast, aching with the
Desire to flee. Some scars don’t heal. Time doesn’t mend all
Wounds. I walked through your barrio and it all felt as familiar as
A fever dream. The things you subjected me to felt miles away and
Yet omnipresent. The park. Your apartment stoop. The corner where we fought and
You spoke with your fists, the bin where you hurled all my gifts in a rage. The memories
Have not faded with time but they hurt less. I don’t live in them anymore.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Telenovela.”