Wednesday, September 7, 2011

a little more

Creaky wooden floorboards harbored the exaggerated stomp of heavy, awakening feet. As the creaking proceeded with intensity, so did my concerning insecurity. Adverting my eyes to the floor where Chase would soon be standing, I prepared myself for it to become the all-too-familiar battle ground. 
A feebly, translucent face covered in rough lines of agitation, complimented by an indefinite but relatively small number of scars from a confined experience, appeared in the doorway. Remembering when that once healthy, glowing face would look at me with eyes of adornment had briskly turned into an unforgiving past time. Previously where he had conveyed enthusiastic excitement his eyes now gleamed rampant. 

Monday, September 5, 2011

Love Connection

Here is a quick Preview to my New Book:  

Laughter in the street below fluttered into the heightened loft windows and faded into a distant murmur as it reached my ears. As the sun lowered in the sky, it was clear that the downtown party had just begun. The clinging of beer bottles, the yelling of pre-drunk maniacs, the sound of jewelry jingling, and the hammering of heels on the pavement echoed in all directions. 
Next to me, a lighter flickered and a flame began to rise beneath a glass pipe that held my escape. Melting down my minds barriers, smoking what I believed made me sane, I continued to look into the hourglass of delusions where the sands of time defied gravity. Inhaling deep breaths of Schizophrenic paranoia--exhaling all righteous judgement--the flame burned out solidifying me in my timeless present. 


“Want another hit?” Chase asked with strung-out eagerness. 

Shaking my head back and forth, I implicated doubtfully that I had enough. 

Both of us knew, however, that enough was never enough.

We wandered into the bedroom where our dilated pupils meshed in agreement. Surrendering my body to his, we descended into the silky sheets, being that it was the only place that we could define our relationship.
Never having to wonder if the love was real when the conscious mind was submerged, it kept me defending the relationship that had always been on edge--teeter-tottering on the cliff of disastrous heartbreak. It was if we had flown away to our own never-land. 
The violent strike of reality had a potent sting when the initial gratification was through with. Rolling over--high to the point of exhaustion--Chase’s eyes secured to the back of his head and he passed out, leaving me to wage war against my arousing thoughts. 
Reflecting over the past five months, I realized that I was patient with Chase who had brought me into this surreal place, always thinking things were going to change in my favor, but he was always in a mood that would snap hard one way or another. I never knew what to expect. It was the excitement of the unknown that kept me from walking away. 
The fights were physical. If things didn’t go his way he would yell at me, choke me, burn me with cigarettes or even pour out onto me the alcoholic beverage he was drinking. How did I think I was happy in the midst of all this? 
Holding strongly to the few times he would make me smile made it all worth it. Who did I have if I didn’t have him? 
Unveiling the truth what I rejected to see in my inebriation was that it hadn’t ever been my Never-land. I was living in his and it’s hard to live in a world that doesn’t belong to you. The only way to be happy would be to please the one who owned it. Not caring about my own well-being, this had been the life I held onto. The only life I felt I had ever known.
Staring at the magniloquent ceiling, I gathered my tingling body up and made my way back into the room where we had started our promiscuous escapade. Grabbing for the pipe that still held my desire, lighting up, I began to nimbly twirl the glass between my fingers and lightly breathed away the somatic sensation of discomfort that was starting to catch up with my defeated mind. 
Although I was alone, whispers filled the shadows. The sun peeked through the blinds that had been lowered and shut to prevent the concerns of the world from spilling in. As the light reached it’s hand into the gaps of every individual slat of plastic, it grabbed me by surprise. 
A groaning from the other side of the thinned brick loft wall kept me aware of Chase’s presence. I contemplated the fact that it had been--for me--another night of no sleep. Had it been three days? Or even a week, perhaps?
Trying to decide what the outcome would be of his drug-induced slumber, I mulled over if he would remember the closeness that we had shared only hours before, or if he would be furious that I had not stayed in the bed curled up beside him and then drown me in accusations of being unfaithful.