hopeinajar
Give me the keys
This isn't your call
I'm speeding away
And leaving you all
I'll drive forever
Away from this pain
I'm in control now
I won't be driven again
I stared at the peephole like a deer in headlights. God knew if he would even look at me after everything that had happened. But I had to do this. I had to do something, anything to try to get him back. He was the only person that I would ever have even considered crawling back to, and that had to count for something.
I sighed, shook out my hair, and tried to look somewhat presentable. I could hear him walking across his creaky apartment floor towards the sound of my timid knock. Who knew if he would ever be able to forgive me. But hell, I went all the way to Providence and picked up his favorite stinking cheesecake for him. If he still couldn't look me in the eye, maybe he would at least like the gift.
Just before he reached the door, I dropped fancy plastic bag from the Cheesecake Factory and bolted for the elevator.
Happy Birthday Josh.
The horizon this morning
Leaves falling lazily to the autumn floor
The gently swaying field of grass in my neighbor's wild backyard
Your eyes when they reflect the campfire
The warmth I feel when your fingertips brush against mine
The slow, comforting silence of long matured love
The pieces of your unkempt hair that nearly graze your eyebrows
What you silently ask for when your eyes linger on my lips
And what you promise forever when you breath my name
Bronze.
You look at me with compassion that tries to suggest that you've done nothing wrong. But I can smell her on you, and I can feel her when I kiss you; her presence lingers about you in the way you carry yourself, and in the way you touch me now. So I shrank away from your fingertips on my skin, and felt the stillness in the air as you understood. I can't keep you on a leash. At this point, I wouldn't want to even if I could
She just stared. I couldn't help but fidget like a child as my sister's eyes bore into me, seeing every flaw and magnifying them in her expression of disgust. I wondered what must be going through her head right now.....
She wonders constantly why I was always the sister who was better liked, the one who gave and received happiness like the way she spent cash.
Here I was, the gypsy of the family, while she had graduated Syracuse to become a successful lawyer. I thought about every confrontation we had ever had, and about all of her evident disapproval of my lifestyle. I thought about my family, my two beautiful daughters. I thought about her gigantic, empty apartment in the high end of Manhattan.
And despite the lines that had formed a furrow in between her brows, I let my heart swell to accept her, and love her for who she was. She continued to drip with what I now recognized as jealousy, and resentment for the contentment that was painted across the dilapidated walls of my current shack of an apartment.
And I was pleased.
She took a deep breath. The metal was cool against her skin, and she winced as she pressed the jagged edge into her palm. So it was real.
She looked up at the building where she would be living for the next 4 months.
A semester in Manhattan.
It was happening.
She signed for everything that she was hoping for, everything she would learn, and everything she would become.
She signed up to follow her dreams in the lease.