Finding...

Everyone has the potential to love. There’s already love within you. Yeah it’s always been there.  You find it, nurture it and eventually decide you’re ready to share your love with others. Some people take a while longer realizing the love within. Don’t waste time looking for love in others... find it in yourself first. Love is found on the other side of Love. Trust & Love yourself. 

Here’s a love poem from my book A Love Found.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Patient ~ Desire 

(10-15-2015)

Waiting.

Living.

Anticipating.

Knowing someday 

You'll find me.

These feelings grow 

In your absence. 

Longing for something

That has yet to be.

My heart

Wounded intentionally 

By imposters  
Aches.

Reassured only that it

Belongs truly to you.

Comforted by thoughts
Of when you'll be here.

I make my way forward 

Trusting that you'll reach me.

My heart starts to beat

Thinking of the sight of you.

I catch my breathe. 

Thinking of your touch.

I'm alive by mere thoughts

Of you

In my mind.

In you 

I've found myself desiring

The one thing 

I'm afraid of most.

To be possessed

Tied down and

Obedient to...

Someone.

~m.

The Best

Some of my favorite moments are best remembered... The best moments are simply lived. Sometimes not taking a photograph is the best way to remember them. 

Do you waste a moment with a picture? Or just enjoy it! 

Here’s something about moments...

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Moment

Time stopped when I first saw you.

You were an unfamiliar man but I felt like I’d always known you.

As you walked towards me

I couldn’t even remember to take a breathe. And then you spoke and I was alive again.

There’s no photo to remind me of how you looked that night but I can’t ever forget,

The specialness of you.

The wrinkle in your smile.

Matched the twinkle in your eye.

The dominance in your stance.

Excitement in your voice.

You remain in a piece of my mind & heart that I hope will always be...

A moment.

One

What you think is new isn’t new and profound has already been pondered. Someone has lived before and will live after you but... There’s only one of you. Every one of you. All sides & parts within you still just one. The duality of man & woman is only created because he/she chooses not to be one. When mankind is ready to work as one uniform mass then the world will change. And as the same when a person chooses to be one with all their parts then they will be strongest. Love yourself. 

Here’s a new story about blood...

Are you united or divided with yourself?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Blood Thieves

 

There’s not much blood involved when your heart breaks. It just breaks. Wound doesn’t require tending like other injuries. Just the same you can’t just take a man’s heart without spilling a little blood along the way. And while there’s nothing more potent with love than the blood of woman with a broken heart, you can’t go around hurting pretty girls to get it. Love is a magical thing and damn the fool that takes a woman’s love for granted because someone like me is bound to come collecting on it.

 

Thieves don’t bother taking hearts often. Stealing a man’s heart is tricky business as most women will attest to. However, most dames won’t tell you that they weren’t after the heart when they walked away with it. I ended up with my fair share of hearts to barter off because a dame didn’t know what to do with it once she didn’t need it anymore. 

 

But tonight my bounty is different. Vita Reveille had a man break her heart so bad that some say she never quite recovered. Aloicious Ridore  left her with nothing… except her blood. Now he wants her blood because the despicable cretin is in love with someone new. It’s too despicable to think of what he’ll do with her blood but I know all too well that my customers aren’t the most delicate of humans. 

 

Some say Vita still loves him something fierce despite all the pain and heartache he caused her by robbing her and running off with her maid. But I’m hoping to the contrary that her broken heart has healed itself so I can forfeit my bounty. The problem with working for the bad guy is that sometimes you get involved in something you shouldn’t have. It’s not fair but it’s the way it is. When you live by a honor code between thieves you don’t rightly get too many opportunities to do the right thing.

 

As most men will tell you, the moment you lay eyes on a woman you know you want to find a way to keep her around or get rid of her because she never leaves your mind. The night I met Vita was like that. She was nursing her heart with a glass of whiskey and I was waiting to collect the bartender’s spine. Something about Vita made me grant the bartender another day. Maybe it was the way she smiled through her tears or the way she made heartache sound like a love story. Sure enough broken heart or not, she is the kindness person I’ve ever come across. I was pretty certain I’d do everything in my power to protect her except I couldn’t double-cross my bounty.

 

Some men have enemies and Aloicious had plenty including one crazy enough to gamble with me. He was a greek man named Stavros Grivas and eager to raise the bounty. He’d had business with Aloicious that resulted in the loss of his right eye. Now the code tends to look the other way when a bigger bounty comes along and Stavros made it hard to resist. 

 

“Whichever woman loves this scoundrel more, this is the woman’s heart you will bring to him.” Stavros says through a thick accent, before having his servant fetch a large knife. “Blood is needed for this magic. And we will agree in blood.”

 

“Understood,” I firmly take the knife and slice into the servant before handing the blade back to Stavros, who guts the man further for the sacrifice. 

“Now that it is done, we shake. We are thieves bonded in a blood oath.”

 

“How long before this spell takes effect.” 

 

“It is done.” Stavros said wiping the blood from his hands. “Leave until I need you again, thief.” 

 

Almost as soon as I left his company I felt it, I felt something in my soul more powerful than I’d ever felt before. Love. And it wasn’t my love. It was love for me and it was the most invigorating sensation. It was then I knew, I had Vita’s heart as soon as she’d laid eyes on me. Her blood raced through my veins with more power than I could ever imagine. And I knew exactly what I had to do….

 

Aloicious Ridore looked mighty surprised to wake up to Vita standing over his bed with his paramour’s heart in her hand but she knew much as I did that there’s no honor when you come across thieves.

 

 

Free Flowing

Life’s a pretty interesting journey. You can free flow and let it happen or resist it a bit. That’s always an experience either way. One man’s freedom is another man’s prison. 

Freedom isn’t just a state of mind for some people. It’s not that easy for them. For a great many people they are shackled to rules, commitments and obligations. Additionally to tell a person suffering from mental health issues that they are as free as their mind allows is quite insensitive. Freedom definitely is a perspective and a great goal to set for those with limited viewpoint of things in life. For those seeking to be free mentally I suggest spirituality, exercise or meditation. For those already free I suggest compassionately holding space and be respectful of others still trying to find peace and try to use better words when communicating your perception.

True freedom lies in being yourself and living how you choose without any one’s permission. Love yourself.

Here’s a fun one about flowing and freedom... that came from a book of poems.

Are you free? 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m

Free ~ Hearts

(12-3-14)

These little heartaches

Remind me I'm yours

Not entirely.

Entirely your heart beats free

Away from mine 

A freedom I too enjoy

Until this beating grows

Into aches

To join yours.

~m

Continue

Continuing is the only option when you want to succeed. It’s not up to anyone else but you how you go forward in life. When you believe in yourself, giving up is not even an option. All the risks, hardships and difficulties you begin to accept as just a part of the journey to success. Love yourself because negative self talk, thoughts or words will only get in the way. Get up every time the universe knocks you down and kill it! Smashing & killing every challenge changes you until it becomes second nature to succeed. Even when it seems like you are out of options... realize there’s a way forward. 

Here’s a one about killing... 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m. 

Killing Changes You.

(4-1-09)

“I could get used to this!” was what I thought as I slit his throat with my sharp knife.

The precise blade slid ever so delicately through and through his skin without the slightest bit of hesitation. Blood spilled down his chest blanketing the white button-down shirt in a dark crimson red. I was feeling very much like Hannibal Lecter when I licked the blade clean of his blood. Slowly, as I continue to clean my blade, I watch his body melt into the pool of red liquid on the wooden floor before me. You know what they say, the first time is all it takes to become addicted.

Killing changes you. Once you’ve committed the unspeakable act there’s no turning back. Funny thing was, I knew from that moment on, I was hooked. Who would be my next victim? See after all, this wasn’t planned. It was an opportunity. I seized it! The thrill of taking a life had always been on the top of my “DO NOT SHARE” list. You know that list of dark sadistic things that you just don’t share. Everyone has one, but you don’t speak of it.

I had to wait, like a predator stalking my prey. Watching… waiting... wanting… until just the right… moment. Perhaps this is how Jack the Ripper felt as he chose his victims? And who would catch me? I would be leaving the country in a matter of days. No one would be shocked if I never returned. No one could blame me for walking away from my dead end job, my artistic failure. Again, they might miss him? Doubtful, I surprised him. He wasn’t scheduled to return from his trip for a few more days. You know the type, workaholic, and no next of kin. Only leaves the house for the office and returns back promptly each day. The cleaning lady was the only person who would find the body, and she wouldn’t be returning until Monday. But again, my darkness consumes me and the wheels start to spin.

How many ways can you dispose of a body? Too many! Too FUN! Just as I’m dreaming up new, sick and twisted ways to make a body disappear… BAM! “I guess he wasn’t dead after all,” are my thoughts as I’m falling quick, looking up at this bastard holding his throat with one hand and a large blunt object in the other. I’m Out.

I often wondered what it would be like to be tortured. Today I find out. I’m bound (hands & feet) and gagged. He’s sewn up his neck wound and licking the knife – there’s blood – while I have to watch. “See, I guess two can play this game,” he says. It’s my blood… apparently he’s cut me, ten places I can visibly see in my arms and legs. But from what I can feel there are several more than that.

“You should have made sure I was dead!” With a sick sadistic smile he edges closer to me. “Cause you’ll never leave here now.” He grabs my neck, kneels down and slides the blade down my left cheek. I can feel the blood spill out, downward, as it mixes with my tears. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” he whispers in my ear.

Again no one would blame me if I never came back.

Focal Point

Where your mind goes is where you’ll end up. You only carry the weight of what you keep in your focus. Without a balanced mind you don’t have a focal point to devote to achieving goals. You gotta learn to find balance within yourself to be able to focus on other things. Don’t let anyone tell you not to spend time working on yourself. 

When I started writing... It was darkness. As gritty and disturbing as I could. Lightness was never a thought. Due to its nature I wrote under a pen name. Mostly because they wouldn't publish it under a woman. An attractive woman they said "shouldn't write things like this! Why not write about love?" After years of lacking the balance, I found the lightness at the urging of a colleague who doesn’t care for who I become in the darkness and now I’m capable of focus that allows me to walk between the light & dark parts of myself to create.

We all walk between lightness & darkness. It's a choice to be happy or sad or angry or calm. Darkness or Light. And... It's also a choice to create. The balance & focus to work with both at will & not be ruled by either is liberating. Creating at will rather than need to be consumed by my emotional state was a risk but worth developing. 

Change is a constant. You control the balance in your life and hone it into a disciplined focus. 

Anyway. Here's a bit of fun from the novel... I'll let you decide how dark it is. 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Dedicated

(11-2012)

“You’re leading an inauthentic life if you…” trails off the audio book in my newly detailed BMW S-series hybrid sedan that my agent has me driving for the sheer fact that ‘when you’re somebody damn it, then you’re environmentally conscious in this town’ quote unquote. 

I am somebody.

Traffic has slowed to a complete stop on the 405 while the wannabe Chopra dictates how to live a more authentic life and instead of really listening all I can focus on is the license plate in front of me that reads BIG THINGS resting above an enormous pair of balls. The larger the balls the bigger the man reads the bumper sticker resting next to the ridiculously extreme nut sack in front of me. 

Alton once told me that only the most obnoxious form of trash places those adornments on their cars. We were sitting in front of some newly opened art café in the last years oh so trendy Piedmont district when she carefully pointed out the obvious offender with two of her fingers snuggly secure in a ring containing a pair of obscenely large sapphires on her right hand.  She went on to say, “Men put their ego on display by showing off their balls and women tuck their ego neatly into a pair of overpriced shoes or a piece of jewelry,” before flashing her green finger bobbles above a pair of matching Peacock Louboutins she’d stolen from my closet. 

As I stop in the middle of the memory to wonder who she’d stolen the ring from I’m yanked forward when the traffic shifts and the Faux-pra is now telling me to “fully commit to your dream” after saying “anything is possible” before jumping back to the tagline “dedicate your life to authenticity” then disc 5 ends and traffic stops once more.

“If you want your career to go anywhere you have to be dedicated to what you are doing,” Continues Guru Zero as the traffic crawls to a stop and I realize I'm not going anywhere. “How dedicated are you?” 

Morals

Morals? Life Lessons? Or just people telling us what to do? I don’t know what is best for anyone else but Buddhism gives me the answers I seek. My suggestion stands as always... find out what works best for you and run with it. If you get something out of what I’m doing then that’s amazing, but realize you can guide yourself and that’s always a great option. Trust your own voice. Develop your own moral code.

Speaking of which, since I took a lot of flack for not explaining myself on the last story post, I’ll break my own code... The Moral of the last story post: Some people you learn to trust & work with will leave you for dead to better their own situation and some people you continue to work with & trust because you know they wouldn’t ever do anything to harm you or place themeselves in harms way. You have to be willing to take the risk to let 

yourself work with people regardless of bad outcomes. You can’t penalize others from a place of fear. 

Here’s an old story that’s one of my favorites about seeking answers & finding your way.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

A Man with a Plan

(7-11-09)

Here I sit; alongside the road on a suitcase full of money in the dark of the night out this undetermined way. Hitchhiking my way to this abandoned place I’d never been, seen or heard of, somewhere in the middle of the state. Waiting to see a man. There’s been no one along this road for over an hour now, where I’m waiting for this man. This is where I should be; exactly where I was told to be. See I’ve got some unfulfilled thoughts in my head. I’ve spent the last two years without a home to call my own, wandering this earth in a never-ending search to find my way back. So here I am looking for answers. Answers from a man - a Man with a Plan they call him. Some say he’s a mystic and can see the future. Others say he knows every answer to every question that ever is, was or ever will be. I don’t know about all that hocus pocus, but I’d pay any price for some answers to these questions that disturb my mind and condemn my soul to burn in continued torment. 

Lights, far in the distance approach. Too remote to distinguish the image behind the irregular dots that slowly close in on my position. The answers that I seek are coming to me for a change. 100k in unmarked bills was the price I was given. This exact amount guaranteed me three questions. I was told “The Man will have the answers and know you before you even lay eyes on him.” Desperate men cling to any shimmer of hope when the cards are down. Don’t ask me what I did to get that money. I’m not proud. But I need to know NOW! I’ve reached the end of my rope and losing grip on reality. 

In the darkness, the pitch black night is still except for the lights of the car that swiftly approaches. There’s no moon tonight. The sky is a beautiful canvas blanketed with stars. More twinkling diamonds than the mind can attempt to count. The black Model T pulls up and scatters the dust around. In the car is a man. Not an older man by any accounts. Not a young man either. The look in his eyes speaks volumes. He’s seen things that will haunt you to the grave. Eyes are the gateway to a man’s soul. This Man knew things and his eyes couldn’t hide it. “Eli,” He knows my name. “Get in the car. Let’s GO!” I grab my suitcase and walk around the car. Throw my suitcase in the back and before I’ve got both feet in front of me and the door closed, he’s speeding off into the night once again. 

25 minutes have rolled by. No sign of any living thing along this road. Its pitch black and the only illumination is from the small headlights shining out on the road before us. It casts an unusual pallor on the Man’s skin. He almost seems to be translucent. Quiet. He hasn’t said a word since he picked me up. I’m certain he’ll spark up any moment cause I’m shrunk up against the passenger door and staring wildly. He looks over at me with a wide grin and it’s unclear to me who is truly mad, me or him. Just as his attention returns back to the road the Man lets out a roar of laughter. The car keeps rolling. 

Another 15 minutes roll on and he perks up again. “I suppose you have questions for me?” says the Man. I nod my head. “There’s really no need to ask them. I have the answers for you. They’ve been with us all night, somewhere alongside that road, in the dark, under that pitch black night sky filled with the twinkling stars.” I cough and take a deep breath. The Man points out the window. “See that hill out there,” I can only make out an outline of what he’s showing me, as it’s far too dark to see into the distance clearly. “That’s where I’m going, and you can come with me, if you’d like. But I can’t answer those questions for you. I can promise you will find peace of mind if you come with me. The answers on the other hand can only provide you with knowledge. You must make your own peace with what you learn from them. I can’t guide you any further than that. Do not worry. You have time to decide.” The car moves forward at a quicker pace. 

About a half an hour later, we come to a fork in the road. He slams on the brakes bringing us to a dead stop. I lurch forward in my seat and fall back quickly. Before the dust of the road clears he’s out of the car pacing, almost running, back and forth between the two roads. There are no signs of any kind on the road. He seems panicked and bewildered. After a few more minutes, he jumps back in the car, slams the door and we choose the left flank. “Sorry about that I didn’t see this coming at all.” He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes the sweat off his brow. It’s a woman’s, embroidered with initials that I’m unable to see clearly. So, how are you doing Eli? Feeling any better about those questions, yet?” He grins and keeps driving. 

“Alright now Eli,” says the Man as he slows the car, “I know you’ve got a million questions in that brain of yours right now, as I’ve got all these answers swimming around in mine. You know the rules, Eli. Three, I can only answer three. I can’t tell you what happens if you don’t come with me. I can not answer that one.” He pauses and then looks me directly in the eye. “Do not ask me about death or love. There is no certainty in either. I am warning you before you waste your time asking such things.” Just as soon as he’s spoken his peace, his eyes leave mine and return back to the road. Strange fellow. But I like his company nonetheless. 

“You’re READY then?” He spins his head around so fast I almost jump in my seat. Quite startling. The car stops. I take a deep breath and nod. 

“Seeing how I just came here looking for some answers, I think that’s what you should give me. Your offer to find peace is generous. Don’t get me wrong. You’re good people, I can tell. I don’t have anything to hold me here so it sounds pretty fair. And for the most part you’ve been good company so far.” He’s sitting quiet in front of me listening without interrupting. I stop. He pauses and starts to drive again. 

“You aren’t sure. The answers tell me that. I can’t choose for you Eli. You can’t ask that either.” He says in a somber and quiet voice. “But have it your way then.” We sit in silence another half an hour as the car crawls up this twisted and winding road far too small for even one car to pass through safely. 

The car rolls to a stop. Before he gets out something escapes from his mouth. “The initials are M.M. And don’t worry I won’t hold it against you. That one was on me. I always did like a curious man with a sense of humor.” He picks up a large rock effortlessly and throws it in the back. Gets back in and drives. 

“Since you’ve decided and I’m almost where I need to be, let’s get on with this then.” The Man takes a deep breath and looks at me. I swear there’s a tear in his eye. “The 1st - It’s always been there in front of you. Be patient and wait, its coming. The 2nd - 27 minutes left. The Reaper’s moving in fast tonight.” He sighs and stops. “Eli. I’m not answering that one. You already know the answer. You don’t need me to re-affirm it. Eli, it is within all of us to know that truth. Do not doubt your instincts.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “The 3rd - No, I’m not who you think. And yes, I will return for you tonight.” He stops talking and motions me out. As he closes the door on me, “Lastly, another one on me - She did love you. But you can not stop her death.” His lights disappear into the dark just as suddenly as they emerged from it. The suitcase is next to me and there’s a large rock for me to sit on. Wait.

Challenges

Life’s filled with challenges & accomplished challenges. Whatever you want to do is on the other side of fear. And often working with others means you overcome a fear so you learn to trust them because you trust yourself.

There’s a pivotal moment in life where you start trusting yourself and rise to life’s challenges by guiding yourself through them. It’s nice to impart what I’ve learned through Buddhism and my metaphysical teachings to others but it’s absolutely amazing when they start guiding themselves without my sharing any wisdom. When you start challenging yourself instead of relying on others... life changes. Realize you are a force to be reckoned with and you don’t need anyone to tell you differently than your own voice. Love yourself and see yourself as the universe already does. It’s amazing!

Here’s another old very dark story. I will cite Matisse and won’t tell you more except I am finding time to focus on writing & drawing again because inspiration is forever.

Enjoy! 

Kisses, m.

Still Life

(September 25, 2009)

Floating. Weightless. Sinking.

There are a million thoughts in my mind as I’m descending further toward a watery grave. The loose pieces of white sheets dance in the aquamarine expanse that surrounds. The long black tendrils of my hair reach up to grasp and the last remaining spark of golden light that penetrates the water’s surface.

It’s not clear to me how long I have before hitting the bottom, or perhaps even, how long I can continue to hold my breath. There are so many uncertain feelings in my gut. Would this time be different? Had I pushed him too far? Would he really let me die? As I descend deeper and deeper, the pressure becomes heavier and it’s now a struggle to hold my breath. These last moments are becoming quieter and darker. The small glint of golden light is diminishing and the sea around me becomes bluish darkness.

Killing me had always been a threat that neither of us took seriously. Artists. Painters. We were so passionate, emotional, misguided, highly wounded and intense individuals. Both to blame so very often. Even after he dropped me off a building, hit me with a car, and took a knife to my face, I still believed in his devotion… as all was in the sake of the craft and I was never in any harm. The beauty of the moment - the creation of a single timeless instant to be frozen for all eternity. After the anger there was always such impractical beauty. Researched. Polaroided. Cataloged. Painted. Hung in the museum, the gallery, or the rich man’s wall for all to envy. This time I’m afraid he’s quite determined and madness has taken over. The madman fitted me with a pair of cement shoes which seal my fate. This will be over soon.

No point in struggling. That will only ensure that I’ll drown sooner. I’m wrapped tightly in 50 yards of white canvas bound by ropes from my shoulders to the base of my calves. Mummified in an eternal moment at the base of the ocean. The fool wanted to see the beauty in my death so he never wrapped my face. “There will be no need to gag you,” calmly he tells me as his hand brushes my cheek and pauses. Look him in the eye for answers. “You won’t scream or you’ll suffocate faster.” There are none as his gaze breaks away. He lifts me and carry me to the edge of the dock. “I can’t change this. You understand? This is the epitome. The final boundary - death. You must see the beauty in this. I love you.” Laugh. Kiss my forehead. Let go.

I’m falling. Watching his face from beneath the surface as it scrutinizes my descent.

Holding my breath is becoming unbearable. It’s quite apparent to me now… there’s no return. Pretty certain I’m reaching the threshold of my limits. Open mouth, release a bubble of air. The time is almost here. I’m fading. There’s no more strength. Take in water. Soon… open eyes and mouth, pale white skin, blood red lips, and aquamarine darkness against white canvas. Breathtaking beauty, researched, photographed, cataloged and then painted. Still life.

Living In Moments

Writing about the Dead is more about living than dying. To remember those you’ve lost is a nice memory but you must remember to focus on the living and connect with others. That’s part of living... connecting. Moments aren’t always enough to bind or bond people. Getting to know someone is what keeps them in your mind, heart & memories. Focus on the present. Love yourself. 

Here’s an old one, from another of my favorite series’ The D Men, that’s about the living & considering change for the better if you get the chance. Enjoy whether you have or haven’t read it before.

Do you focus on the living or the dying?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

The Dead

(6-28-2011) 

 

“Baby, I love you come back to bed.” She says.

The soft voice whispers and speaks the truth.

And it’s the last truth that echoes before he’s awake.

The same conundrum wakes Classer Andresen from a dead sleep. Night after night, different places, different women and the same thing happens for Classer Andresen. The whisper precedes a memory. Not the last moment, but one all entirely different.

A random instance where she was there in his arms. In the dark of the Study standing next to the window and he was wrapped around her. His mind is surrounded by the smell of the room intensified by the sensation of his touch he lets his mind wander with the thought. Imagining the smell of the dusty room filled with old books could still make him jump hard with a hunger for her.

Stiff, hungry and hung over when he jars himself free from the waking dream, Classer can’t quite shake the sensation of the moment. Looking over, he visually makes out a long pair of legs attached to a thin brunette.  The small dimple of her back feels just like the one in his memory. But it’s not. As he moves his eyes up from bottom to top he can see the signs of his night. Two wrappers trail the edge of the sheets before giving way to a third. At least his efforts were protected even if he can’t seem to remember them. The perfection of the thin body next to him lifts and lowers with small shallow breathes. With the dark hair covering her face she might be the mirror image of Inara. Soft corners of her lips peeking out from the curly mess of long brown locks could fool him the same way the others fooled him every night.

This one, her name was Rachel. She told him that was her name, but it might be something else. He distinctly remembers a Heather or a Michelle. These women seem to be all the same when there’s one after another night after night. And the one thing they seem to have in common is that they can never be her.

The women like the memories couldn’t bring Inara back into his life. She was still gone, a dead memory because he was foolish enough to let her go. Foolish enough to send her away. And much like a dead woman, thinking about her that wouldn’t change a thing or bring her back to  him. Yet his mind wanders from the simplest stimulation. Looking at the book on the nightstand is intoxicating to his mind and sends his thoughts back into the past looking for her.

The air around them was stagnating in the dark Study. Dusty from the smell of old volumes of truth. Although her lips kept begging him back to bed, her hands were making different plans altogether. Down around his back she cups his ass and pulls him close. Without a thought he reaches beneath her robe and lets his hand move up and inside her thighs. Soft, warm and welcoming she kisses him when touches her.

Snapping back to present he’s ready for more. But to wake the creature next to him would only shake the moment from before. So he quietly runs his fingers across the skin of her thighs before getting up from the bed. It’s all he can do to avoid waking his anonymous companion as he gently shuts the bathroom door. Awake means questions and questions require answers. Answers are something that Classer really doesn’t want to supply at 3am for a woman he’s known less than six hours.

In the bathroom there’s wrappers four and five making an appearance. At least there is comfort in knowing that he safely could handle his alcohol and anonymous bedfellows. But this night wasn’t like any other and Classer knew it.

Tonight much like the dead didn't like to rest, the memories kept coming back to him haunt. The cool drip of the faucet sets his mind wandering backwards toward the same sound of water gently tapping at the window in the moment that cannot become again.

Kicking the back of his legs she let his movements climb and rise. The sound of her breath and moans greet the pulse of his hips and the touch of his hands. Slowly the sounds between them come to an end. Inara kisses the soft part of his bottom lip before taking in the whole of his mouth.

It’s there the memory always fades.

Still staring at the floor and standing next to the sink Classer can’t gather himself quickly enough. His face in the mirror seems the same and very different. There are a thousand reasons to go out there and pick up where he left off with the thin brunette named Rachel or Heather or Michelle and only one to pick up and leave…

She wasn’t her.

And none of them ever would be. None of the living could replace the dead memory of her. And none of these women could ever replace her ghost that haunted his memory. Sometimes she was there in a sound or a breath, but her pure essence could never be captured in a night of mindless pleasure. But for a moment or two he could bring back the ghost of her with a thought. And although it was the purest form of intoxication for his mind, Classer knew he couldn’t live in those memories. That’s all they were.

“Baby, come to bed,” She calls.

In a small voice he can hear the woman call to him.

And it’s the only truth that he can face when he looks in the mirror before turning out the light and going back into the room.

To The Bone

Writing darkness in a different frame of mind is something else. It’s like walking in the winter versus walking in the summer... and not minding either. One of my favorites of the darker series’ was the Bones so I thought I’d focus on writing on a few. Here’s a new Bones with the flavor of the old darkness.

Do you like to take walks?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

To The Bone
 
“Chilled to the Bone!” Tommy yells from up the hill.
 
It’s an early dusk and an unprecedented snow has descended upon our sleepy parts. It’s quite rare that a snowstorm will land in these parts but it’s not unheard of. The fair Adelaide Lafont has graced us with her company on a stroll back through the woods home. She was letting out from her Mama’s knitting circle as we were exiting from the local watering hole, so Tommy offered up our services as escorts. Much to my dismay, sweet Addie has taken a shine to me and wants to hold my hand while we cross through the dead parts of the woods. It doesn’t bother me much because the dead don’t mind the cold and I’m fair certain they’re out playing in this ice storm.
 
With his typical tomfoolery, Tommy is falling behind whooping and carrying on about his distaste for the cold weather. Addie hollers at him, teasing his antics, “Don’t you love being outside? I thought that’s why you’re always playing with the bones, Tommy Lee.” 
 

“This wind chills me to the bone! Whose idea was it to walk home in the snow? Them bones are liable to jump out and try to confis-sss-cate my skin in this state,” Tommy backtalks with a hint of chattering teeth that give him a stutter. Addie giggles at his nonsense, but deep in the back of my head, I know he isn’t wrong. Quickening my pace, I pull Addie a little closer to me. 

 
Walking through the snow blanketed woods as night creeps in might sound like a romantic moment, but round these parts, the dead rarely rest and the bones take every opportunity to pull one over on the living. You see the dead tend to crawl out when the temperature drops. Something about life being frozen still all around makes most folks stay indoors. The living don’t much care for the icy weather and this shift to freezing temperatures almost guarantees you’ll come face to face with a pair of bones walking around midday. Being close to nightfall in this wintery playground doubles our likelihood of meeting a pair of bones. Now the dead normally abide by the rules of the living but when the dead come out in the cold, they come looking for the bones of those that have wronged them. They don’t much care what they take but they’ll take yours if you ever crossed them. 
 
It wouldn’t have been Addie’s fault, why I’m nervous. God rest her Daddy’s soul, he was a gambling man that never did know when to quit. And as we make our way down the trail to her house, all I can think of is how her Daddy used to cheat them bones at cards. Now some men are good at talking or persuading others to do what they want, but Addie’s old man, Remy Lafont, was a damn good cheat. I’d never seen a skeleton come unglued over losing to anyone before I played cards with Remy. He’s probably the only man I’d seen walk away with an entire set of bones minus the skull and an arm and not give it back. It’s a shame Addie couldn’t see him play, but its good fortune she doesn’t know this evening or she might worry too.
 
“THE BONES!” hollers Tommy and I can hear him coming up quick. “I CAN HEAR SOMETHING COMING!”
 
Addie’s laughter grows louder this time, but I give her a yank closer as Tommy runs past us. Tommy has much to be afraid of. He’s crossed the bones on more than one occasion and despite losing his skull once he hasn’t much changed trying to get the best of the dead. Much to my dismay, I know the dead aren’t after Tommy in the twilight hour. In the back of my mind, it’s quite clear that there’s a dead man coming to call on Addie to answer for her Daddy’s sins.
 
Just as I think it, a boney hand latches on to Addie’s free arm. No quicker than I reach over and rip it away, a skull bites down on her leg. She winces and lets out a loud belly laugh before kicking it off with the heel of the boot on her free leg. 
 
“You ok?” I half laugh at her reaction wondering why she isn’t scared.
 
“You know that sneaky fella always tries to hitch a ride home with me every time it gets real cold out. My Daddy, God rest his soul, told me to never let him near the rest of his bones. You ok?”
 
“I’m chilled to the bone.” With a giggle and wide smile, she pulls me closer.

Internal

Love is internal. It’s not external. Love exists within. It does keep you warm, metaphorically. It’s not found in the eyes, ears or mouth. Once love is within you, it’s always there. Losses, breakups and hurt feelings can not remove love from you. Others can help you amplify the love within. You can use your eyes, ears, mouth or body to express love for others. But love is eternally found inside of you and you share it with others. 

Love in Buddhism is compassion. My own heartaches always lead me to deepen into my intention to be a more loving human. While I'm healing and integrating the feelings of loss back within I try to focus on sending loving-kindness to others. Sure everyone wants love but much like happiness, it's already within you to be happy and its the same for love.

I'll give you the buddhist answer for once: Love. Just love yourself more. It will all fall into place. When you have love for yourself, you will have love for others. Don't let anyone make you feel bad for not being emotionally ready to share that love. It's okay to keep it to yourself. Personally, I find focusing on myself helps me serve others best. 

If you don't know how to tap into the love within my suggestion is practicing Metta(s) for others. A Metta is a type of meditation. In this meditation you learn to love yourself through connecting and experiencing a sense of unselfish love toward another. Think of someone or something that easily inspires feelings of love, compassion and warmth. It is the best if you can use yourself as the object for compassion. If it's easier you can use a friend, family member, a child or an animal as a benefactor. Once you find your object, you focus on your feelings for them and let the love grow and expand naturally. You can think 'may you be happy' or 'may you be safe' or "may you be well' and if your metta is focused inward then say "may I be happy" and so on. 

Finding love within opens the possibility for true love or compassion.

Here’s a lil ol story about love, the wanting of love and being a little unsure of love. Just remember, everyone deserves to feel love. 

Do you love yourself?  

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

hit.

What is it honey? Tell me about it then. Love. What about? It hits you that’s for sure. Knocks the wind out of you if you’re not careful.

Let me tell you… Falling is the easy part. The jumping is the tricky part. Most people won’t get close enough to the edge before backing out. How does it happen?

Well you meet someone and you find yourself getting to know each other. All too well. That’s always fun. Soon enough you can‘t stand to be apart and you start telling yourself: It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. And somehow you know you’re in too deep.

At that moment of depth you know you’ve been seduced by their charm.  The feeling you get when they’re around is overwhelming happy. There is no one else you’d rather be with. You still wonder if it was supposed to be different. Wasn’t it?

Your defenses are down. You are completely caught off guard. But that is love. And then there’s no other way it could have been. It happened when you weren’t looking. A wall you can’t get around, over, or crawl under.

Before too long comes the realization: I’m hit. This person’s love has wounded me. I’m not the same as I was.

No way it’s all a big accident and fooling is no longer an option. When you look in the mirror you know by your own reflection that it’s growing inside. Love. An emotion that can not be caged is bigger, louder and completely taking you by surprise. Standing face to face with the inevitable and its more than you care to think about.  You’re consumed with the hope that they are feeling the same.