he’ll be home before we know it, but under the covers you’ll be safe-and-warm.

the covers are our only hope. don’t trust anyone else. keep them tucked-tight.

your old four-post bed used to mock me.
tossled sheets and hand-beaten-pillows screamed their curses my way.

curse/scream/curse

i miss them.

from the kitchen to the bathroom, i would pass by and  to this day, i can remember light that illuminated that damn-dungeon-room.

i tried to stare it into submission; it was relentless. who knew one room could be so possessed?

we were always most comfortable on your smoke-friendly-porch.

the corners were our best-friend. pillars of smoke by day, pillars of fire by night.

in retrospect we were hiding and shadows were our solace.

darkness was no place for the waking life; today we’re happy and flourishing in the brilliant-light-of-day.

5 years passed–5 years wiser–5 years awake.

thank you, mystery.

“she’s a rebel, she’s a saint, she’s the salt of the earth and she’s dangerous.”

[See post to listen to audio]

so when i was only barely holding my self together, i had a friend who could do a once-around-the-room and change the fortunes of everyone in attendance.

she was brilliant; hers is a life bordering charm and innocence.

she was a goldmine and they gutted her.

each of these was a welcome addition to a night of squalor, and for a moment, the ground felt like heaven.

the repeating patterns of the faux flooring was like a warm blanket. desperately, her mind tried to reconcile the squares and diamonds that she had overlooked for years.

at first glance they appeared three-dimensional, but with a second-glance, they were simply a pattern of the boring life that had become her norm.

tonight this was her refuge…
her tent on a warm summer evening.
her parents’ bed after a bad dream.
her emptiness at the end of a dialtone.

in the morning the dirt and grime of a bathroom floor would seem repulsive, but tonight they were all together allies…best friends and compadres in the war against the bullshit.

never take for granted your bathroom floor.

tonight mystery was happy to be with her new friend; she would let the morning deal with itself.

it all felt so familiar.

she was at home with her feelings, surrounded completely by the touch of her clothes and the taste of the air. she closed her eyes and felt her forehead press against the cold passenger-side window.

the whole night had been a blur and that was exactly how she had intended it.

the soft sound of a tune drifting over the car stereo served as a bitter reminder of what once was a dear promise.

the glare from on-coming headlights snapped her back to reality and she was faced with an existence without him. you see, when julia was honest with herself, she knew that she had only recently learned to accept the reality of her situation. in fact, picking herself up from pity and self-loathing had been her greatest achievment.

everyone thought so.

had you known what they had together, you would have congratulated her too.

everyone told her over and over how well she had coped with losing him and congratulated her on being able to get back to “normal”.

a million times a day, julia reassured herself that all was well and that life had moved on nicely and a million times a day she knew how sick it felt to lie to oneself.

as his car slowed alongside her street, she was quick to gather her things and thank him for the platitudes he had showered upon her that night.

“dinner was lovely and so was the company…thank you again,” she replied with a kiss to his cheek.

and with such few words she rushed to the staircase where she had shared her first kiss and it was there she paused until her evening’s nameless companion had safely driven away.

“it’s funny how it felt so familiar”, she smiled.

As she sat on the staircase where they spent so many late-night ascents, she smiled and wished him all the best in life and love.

sleep took hold of her quickly, but it was early when the sun pulled her from rest and once again julia was reminded of how much she hated the morning.

and i was the unknown hipster band whose cd you bought because you heard one lousy cover tune that made you smile. a friend told you about the way i sung an old favorite tune and you were intent on experiencing me. trouble is that you werent ready for the whole show…but neither was i…and so maybe that’s why we’re perfect together.

once i was the one who wrote about mystery and her lover and about julia and her tormented soul. once i promised you a world you had never seen and one that i knew didnt exist. once i believed in love without limits without pain and without definition, but now i’m just jeff. so what more do you want?

so i’ll just step outside and think this all over before i let it get to my head because i’m heavy with thoughts of the dead and the lofty highs that i’ve missed since the last time i said goodbye to the dearly departed.

she had been seeing him for a little over five years. he said that he’d never been so happy, but julia lived with the fear that one day he’d realize that he was in love with a girl who wanted to give him so much more than she was capable of giving.

she remembered the morning that he walked into her bedroom and kissed her forehead. “you said we had never seen a sunrise together. come with me, because the morning is waiting for us.”

julia shook off sleep–still drunk from a night of tears.

she followed him as he led her outside to the patio they once shared. the sun peaked above the sunrise as he asked, “isn’t it beautiful, baby?” she was too busy looking at him basking in the light of the new morning to see anything but his face.

“yes, sweetheart, it is. let’s stay here forever”, she replied.

he stood awkwardly for a moment before thanking her for the letter she had conspicuously left on his doorstep the night before…the very letter that had led to the morning’s events.

with nothing more than a smile and a tear he was walking away.

julia pleaded, “please don’t go. the moment has passed us by too quickly.”

“we’ve had the sweetest of lives together, but you’ve chosen a life without me and i can’t go back” he replied.

his resolve was what had first attracted her to him and now it had quickly become the force that had driven them apart, the very knife lodged in her heart, the taunting period at the end of their life’s story.

and this is why julia had learned to hate the morning…

things are right in her world and it’s all starting to slow to a pace that she can comprehend.

the traffic jam of thoughts are clearing up and the spectators are going home for the night.

when things are this clear she finds herself the most confused.

she battles against self and reaches helplessly for the only comfort within reach.

“you feel so alive, so free of conscious, and free of guilt as if you’ve never loved before. so is that all you have to say? You know this helpless romantic is hanging on your every word.”, she pleads.

the bitterness rises up in her mouth and she thinks of how they meant so much to each other. but this is easier for him now and she fears the verse and the chorus and the bridge and she holds on tight as she looks down at her ash covered body and wonders what he must think of her.

“When you feel your fingers on his body, think of me and then hold tight to your rosary because i’ll be there with you, waiting for your blessing, waiting for your atonement and waiting for your pardon from purgatory. i pray to jesus and to the saints and to the foreign gods that betray me that this lone prayer may reach you.”

she realizes that if this bond can’t hold them together, then nothing could and the vows of humanity and of self-worth fall wasteful on a shore of lies.

and julia is shivering because it is night and she is naked, wondering where he could be found. but the darkness beckons and it feels so wonderfully peaceful to her, free from hurt and wonderfully calm.

…and julia shook as she awoke—alone.

instead, there’s a uniform blanket of grey clouds draped over the sky.

it would be inaccurate to say that it is rainy–some would say it’s misty.

it’s a nice change to finally have the weather agree with your mood.
no condecending sun mocking you for being sad or taunting you to go outside when all you want to do is hide under the blankets.

i sat outside for a while and it’s completely calm. there’s hardly a breeze and the mist is falling silently.

i’m going to enjoy this perfectly beautiful weather on an otherwise imperfect day.

he was here and completely perfect for her.

she remembered his face and recalled how beautiful her lips felt when she would whisper his name.

he had disappeared so long ago, slipping away into the night and insisting that it was for the best.

She had wasted so many nights waiting to live and too often, just wanting to die.

but in a moment of fate and of shame, she would flee to her story in the night, a picture perfect recreation of what she wanted for herself.

She squeezed his hand and hoped for a response, but he wasn’t listening to a word, she was saying, only day dreaming of another life. She could never have enough of him, but she feared that he had plenty of her.

“afterall, what good is a life of shame?”, he consoled her.

She hid the tears in her eyes and she smiled the phoney smile that they had taught her. She was so convincing, complete with a toss of her hair and christian-smirk that would have made the pope blush.

She would show him how beautiful they could be together, how perfect life could find itself, but in between profound thoughts, she heard, “goodbye, mystery” as his nightly fling dragged him to the bar room door. She didn’t answer, but only looked away as his heart lurched forward, longing to beat with hers.

“Goodnight”, she said under her breath, and another night came to a spectacular fucking end.