Nine Lives

I called her crying. She's seen me through heaven and hell. Alive and dead. I could not grasp my breath so smoothly nor the fact that it was over. It is always over. I felt like I died again. This too familiar feeling, oh how I must be reborn. There is always an end. The saying "It's not meant to be," is false. It is meant to be, as is everything with an end. I've learned this through a few bitter sweet and lovefilled endings.The pain, how it aches, the hurt trembled with every spoken word that evening. The definition of soul mate in a plural form, from her mouth to my ears was new to me, was true to me. Like the cat I am. I loved him, every piece of his broken heart. As did I love him, enough to travel the seas to meet his touch. I love him, so dear I gave him a piece of my soul. And I love him for loving me. I loved him for teaching me to be real, authentic. As I also loved him for giving me hope to love again. I loved them all for many reasons. Reasons that have led me here to love him for simply loving me. The blood has dripped through my sliced skin and soft bruises, the tears have flowed like the wine in my glass and I still breathe with a steady beat. I have felt and I feel again, the bliss warms every inch of my body and soul as I have danced to the moonlight in romance. I'm blessed to love and to have loved than those who fear to never love at all.

Los Angeles, CA

Portraits

I flip through channels like I do the chapters in my life. It's a never ending flow, that of the hustle and I continue to slip into a rhythm of blues and high music notes. I'm a visionary and I visualize the next stepping stone yet the fog which clouds in the water hides this pretty stone. The lyrical nagging remains the same throughout the years, vibrant and two toned. This too familiar world around me moves lazily with no finesse yet I breathe calmly, dazzled by the deep red that floats in my wine glass. I cup its wholeness, embrace its presence as it fills me to quiet privacy, at last. I write, as I always do. Strength please don't leave. Oh how my thoughts they are never limited, if anything I wish them to rest just this once. So maybe for a clear moment, what I see I can fully understand. But who is to say what is to be or what will be, for the perfect in my eyes do fall. It makes slow sense that I choose to step a side and now my heart is beating for a different ride. I question not my dreams nor passions but to doubt the foundation of my early hopes, this transition from burning home to home has lost its sheltering souls. And I remain bonded yet silent, slanted smile enough to pass by as the overwhelming chaos has emotions drifting to heavy sighs. A bold man once told me, this too shall pass. But how can he be so sure that the truth will be the last.

Los Angeles, CA