Love Songs

_{Writing love based things seems so far removed from who and where I currently am... although I’m sure that there’s more in me. I’m currently writing something new and quite dark between editing. It’s been a minute but from what I recall, relationships are tricky things.}

_{I love to see love and do my best to avoid seeing cheap imitations of it, as opposed to wishing it could be unseen. I’m happy for my favorite kens & dolls who are involved as much as when I’m involved. Typically I’m very protective of love affairs because it takes a small amount of interference to break things apart. Quite possibly there’s always a different plan for your life if you don’t end up with a certain person... there are other things to focus on that may lead you to the right person, if you let it happen.} 

Do you ever assume your story or a chapter in your life is over when ends up different than you imagined? It’s a foreign concept because it’s not something I ever pondered. It would require never moving on to learn or have new experiences. To me, life is Unwritten... Which is oddly enough the title of my next series/book. 

_{Its been a couple years and I still don’t miss the musicians but I do miss my friends, the music & finding more time to create with words... so I wrote something about sharing those songs we love.} 

_Enjoy!

_{Kisses, m.} 

The Mixtape 

Click, wiss, whir, whin. Chipmunk voices. Click. Repeat.

I don’t how the cassette deck in this car still works but it does. 

It doesn’t sound like the most humane thing but somewhere between the desert and the San Jacinto Mountains we lost the radio and phone signals. 

“Can you believe they still make these?” he says pulling the cassette out of the cars deck. The label is pulling off the corner and I can just make out the words ‘Day Mix’ before he sets it down.

“I can’t believe you kept some mixtapes. I thought they were…”

“All playlists or mix CDs. Nah, some of these had the best night music.” 

Quickly rifling through the tape case he grabs one labeled ‘love songs’ and shakes it at me, before pushing it into the deck. “This one here is the best for driving at night.”

The otherworldly falsetto of an Antony and the Johnsons track fills the warm air of the night. Our two headlights are the brightest thing on the horizon while the color blue blankets the hills around our small car. 

“So you still…”

“Make mixtapes? I was waiting for you to catch that. Mostly mix CDs and transfer them to cassette sometimes. It gets harder to find the tapes.”

“It’s nice to be here, with you like this. The last time we were together...”

“I’m always too busy. I’d apologize but…”

“You don’t have to, we’re here now. Do you have that one song on here?” 

“You remember?”

“Yes. You stuck it on all your “love mixes.” 

Click, wiss, whir, whin. Click. wiss, whir, whin. Click.

“Crying… over you…” Roy Orbison echoes out into the night. 

“We don’t have to listen to this.” 

“Oh we have to listen to something.”

Shaking the case, I tell him, “Dealer’s Choice.”

Do Nothing

Ever just live? Enjoy the moment? Do absolutely nothing? To be just be in the moment with your thoughts or engaging others for no other purpose than to enjoy their company can be incredibly therapeutic for the mind, body and soul.

If you haven’t, why not? It’s counter productive to always be going. It leads to higher risk of burnout and failure. Which often leads back to... doing nothing. There’s zen and stillness in enjoying “doing nothing”

It took many years to realize for myself that from all the "going going going," I must do nothing to maintain emotional and physical equilibrium with proper self-care. Between the periods of busy try a little bit of nothing. 

Not to mention, theres a great deal of joy in missing out on things you'd rather not do and places you'd rather not be. It's not unkind to decline or to support yourself before supporting others.

Here’s an old story about doing nothing but enjoying the universe around us. 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

What do you see?

(9-4-2010)

“What do you see?” He asks.

“I’ll tell you what I see if you tell me first,” he insists.

He tells me to go first to see what I’ll say. Always like a challenge wanting to be answered. It was his version of a psychologist’s test to gauge the mental processes with the imaginings of the eye. There was nothing analytical about it.

 “It’s a clipper ship,” I say and smile while running my hand through his hair. “With great white sails that dance in the wind.”

“Really, I think that it’s just smoke.” He points to a line breaking across the horizon and through the middle of the mast of the ship and smirks with a hint of laughter. The funny part is that he always says the same thing. Even though he knows it’s not true it’s always the same thing.

“No there, look it’s a handful of feathers pouring out of an overstuffed pillow.” His eyes light up when I contradict him.

“And above the pillow there’s a head of hair waving.” He joins in.

“How about there?” I motion toward a new formation.

“It’s white gloved fingers pointing in the direction of the wind.”

“No, it’s a cat with a wide-toothed smile larger than the top of his head.”

The birds are dancing through the teeth of the great big cat that knows a secret he refuses to share and I know this just one of those games that we love to play. It’s never just smoke in the sky. Clouds are but a dream away from the touch of a hand as we lay back and watch the sky.

“Is this a dream?” I ask him.

“But what is a dream?”

“Something the mind sees and makes real.”

“Clouds are a dream.” He tells me while reaching over and brushing the leaves from my hair. “That’s what my mother used to tell me when I was a child.” It’s a conversation that we had a thousand times and the same story never grew old. He tells me about this story with a small smile in his eyes. After the story it’s always the same.

“What were the clouds like when you were growing up?”

“They were big and fluffy and had the most beautiful colors.”

“What kind of clouds were they?”

“Big white ones like today, sometimes small streaking ones, and occasionally there were the rainclouds.”

“Tell me about the rainclouds.”

“Oh, the rainclouds brought the most amazing thunderstorms with them. The grays and purples among the colors of the breaking daylight…”

“Really?”

“The most amazing storms came and went. Reaching across the landscape. Those Arizona plains slightly dampened. Like hands dropping water through them upon a dry scene. It is nothing like today. ”

Today is different. The transition of colors moves and shifts against the clear blue backdrop. Slowly grows the grays and purples mixing in with the white. Creating a multicolored oversized version of a Rorschach puzzle that awaits our interpretation.

“How so? How is it different?”

“The clouds aren’t one, they are many and look there’s a man with a hat holding a dagger made of cotton sticking out of it.”

“You’re right the sky is different. But he isn’t holding a dagger it’s a pair of scissors with a feather in the hat.”

The colors are growing darker and the shapes keep intensifying deeper and fuller. He asks me “What do you see?” again and again and I tell him there’s a million things that are creeping across the newly coated blanket of gray against blue. He tells me that its not a million things. I tell him its now a slow climbing a black balloon with a white diamond in its eye that watches our movements. He laughs and agrees that it’s rising and rising to overcome it all. The birds are still dancing through the white upon blue, in and out of the gray-black in the corners.

“Maybe it’s just smoke.” I tell him.

“Is that what you think?”

“Maybe I’m inclined to agree?”

“Then smoke it is?”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“It’s not just smoke.”

“Well, before it starts raining and the clouds lose their shapes and colors, tell me…What do you see?”

Time Travel With Andy Warhol: Eyes Closed

Took the Time Machine to see Andy Warhol last night...

Andy was working on new pieces and quite introspective. Upon seeing me, he just stood still and waited to speak.

“Which version of you am I getting, Moni? You look... Your eyes look like they’ve seen more. But it’s not love in them.”

“No, it isn’t love.” I shrug and admire his unfinished pieces.

“Moni, it’s because you leave your eyes open and people should fall in love with their eyes closed. Close your eyes!”

“Now?” I posture as I’m taken aback with his demand.

“Why not? Let’s practice. I’ll go first.” Andy announces and proceeds to close his eyes.

“Do you have champagne?” I ask leaving one eye open to scan the room.

Ignoring my query he asks, “Moni, are your eyes closed?”

“No.”

“Close your eyes.”

Second

Second chances, second chances... you know they rarely have to do with the same people... it’s more to do within us and our situations. The universe means for you to expand and experience living through growing, changing and moving forward. Interacting with new people and situations is part of that process. Things that no longer serve or challenge us aren’t helping, they are hindering our life. 

Here’s a story that is a second draft... it has little to do with its origin and everything to do with taking a chance on a change of perspective. 

Do you give yourself chances? 

Enjoy! 

Kisses, m. 

Closer #2

(10-15-2011)

Closer. Gently I pull his face towards mine with a smile. Both hands holding his jaw firmly and I can feel the lines of his mouth lift to match my grin. Both my arms tightly locked with the intent to move in. So very innocently I look up into those eyes and try to match their gaze. He lowers his arms and I reach over. His breath hits my cheek in deep heavy blows of anticipation. Finally my face is resting against his and he’s waiting for it. The tip of my nose meets his cheek and I giggle. He remains still and solemn allowing my gentle affections to progress. Carefully my lips find their way upwards. Closer. Lightly I push tiny little kisses against his skin. Lips flit over and around the eyes before making their journey to the ears. Delicate little flutters of his eyes caress my face as I move. Hot breath escapes the warmth of my open mouth as I continue to address the situation. Never breaking my hold of his jaw I begin nursing my target with the tenderness of a skilled surgeon. The lobe of his ear is tender to my kiss. Without indicating any warning I gently open to spread my lips further for a tickle with my tongue. Mouth continues to move back around when he laughs at my silliness. Closer. Carefully I withdraw my lips and add a breath of warm air into his ear. He presses a slight pressure against my cheek with his lips. Drawing back I tenderly kiss his neck with my lips before climbing back up around his ear. His pressure against my skin slowly intensifies as I draw out my intention. Quietly his breath increases with excitement. Tenderly I hold onto his jawbone making it clear that he is to remain still. The sound of his breath is growing deeper while I continue to tickle and press into the opening with my breath. As he attempts to draw back with simple pleasure I persist in keeping him close. Waiting for a sound that hasn’t made its presence known, his nose presses against my cheek to tease it out. Closer. Finally the tip of my tongue softly pushes back against the top of my mouth until there is no barrier. With no more than a breath I tell him, “Do you want to know a secret?”

Face

You don’t have to attend every argument you are invited to. The only person you have to face, after all, is yourself. The world and people aren’t in your way. You are. Don’t stand in your own way. Try taking a breathe and try looking at things again. It’s never as complicated as someone wants you to believe. Love yourself. 

Do you view the world as against you or standing your way? Why?

Here’s one from the Immersed series.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Clean

(7-6-2016)

I'm wounded. 

Body exhausted.

Tired.

Achy. 

Dirty.

The day nearly stole my soul

And he demands attention. 

Eagerly waiting for me

He holds his gaze.

Too weak to refuse him

I submit.

Gently he disrobes me 

And with a nod I'm his.

Bare to his eyes. 

Open to his touch. 

Softly he massages my neck & back.

He insists upon my fulfillment. 

My body is tight.

Emotions closed off.

I'm needing release.

And he knows this. 

Tired of my excuses 

He persists.

Taking control.

The way he knows I like.

Moments of his hands press my body forward until I open up to him.

My sun kissed brown hair falls when he unravels it. 

Although unhappy with the abrupt change of color he says nothing while continuing to assert his will.

My hair falls and catches the air currents from the fan and begins bouncing like the wind has a hold.  

Gently he caresses my neck, my arms & breasts before kissing the top of my forehead. 

With a slight indication he lifts and carries me to the bathroom. Setting me down he motions to the bath. 

Quietly I draw the bathwater and wait. 

There's only still between us.

Silently he removes his clothing and reveals himself. 

His eyes look me up and down. 

Lips open with a smirk. 

Letting his fingers run across my skin he teases. 

With a quick gentleness he runs his hands up my spine, through my hair & moves my head to meet his. 

His breathing is calm and deep as he leans closer with his mouth.

With a gentle kiss, he encourages me to move toward the warm water with him.

Completely lost to my own will I hesitate.

His strong slender frame moves without mine.

In an instant he's at rest in the tub.

The gentleness of his arms insist me to join him while his eyes never break their stare.

As I follow his lead I'm lost in thoughts of the day trying to break my mind free.

Moving by his volition I untie myself from the memories that haunt.

It's only when he pulls me down to him and holds me in his arms that the day falls away. 

These feelings have never subsided.

I'm reminded how lost I am when I'm away from his arms. 

Dirty and consumed by the madness of the world. 

Found by his touch...

I'm clean.

Up

You don’t fear living once you are in control of it. Unlike falling and hitting bottom in failure and having to get back up... there is no falling or hitting bottom in love. Only rising. Love elevates every part of you. When love is there you will know it. It completely hits you and you don’t have to force it or let go to feel it. It’s just there and fills you with joy and adoration. 

Here’s one about being hit with love that’s just old.

Do you fall or rise in love? 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

hit

(2-13-2011)

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… Loving is the easy part. The going for it that’s the tricky part. Most people won’t get close enough 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.

How do you know?  My dear, you don’t. Have to believe they’re hit just like you.

Wide shut

Love sees with the heart not with the eyes. Love is without words, without looks and without demanding someone say it to you... When you love someone and know it’s reciprocated then you feel it in every touch and breath. A look in the eye is inconsequential when love is in your heart. You feel it and you don’t need the words to be said. A kiss with eyes open is a lie even with someone telling you the words of love. 

Do you need a look and words to know it’s love? Why?

Here’s one about the blindness of love...

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Blindsided

_(1-22-11)

Ladies and Gentlemen, that lovely song was by the great Cole Porter. I can’t see you all, but I’m sure glad to hear you’re enjoying yourselves. Anyone who is just joining us this evening thanks for coming out and welcome to Limelight. If you’ve found yourself alone this is where we’ve all come together. No one is alone. I bet most you are single. Ain’t no shame in the game. Which one you say? The love game. Oh I know there’s a few pairs out there. And I love to hear that. Don’t you know it? Well, that’s the thing isn’t it? Love. It’s the blind leading the blind honeys. And don’t I know it. One of you down in front tell me what you think about that? Like I thought, you didn’t have a clue. That’s the truth. Blindsided. Now, honey, I could tell you a thing or two about being blind. You barely know what’s coming before it hits you. But nonetheless you do know its coming. It’s something about developing a sixth sense for things that are coming. They say when you lose your sight the other senses start kicking into high gear. But without being able to see what’s coming you learn to feel your way around. I wouldn’t know much about that since I was born and raised blind. Anyway, I think that analogy works for love though. Blind, can’t see it coming, but oh how you might feel it. It never surprises me that whenever I greet love my lil ol’ ticker starts working overtime in my chest. Couldn’t say what it is exactly? Yet it happens each and every time. Mr. Porter got it right when he said, “What is this thing called love?” With that my lovelies here’s another song for you.

Magical

Magic is within you... it has nothing to do with looking for it. Don’t look to photos, people or anything external to complete the magic inside of you. Like love, magic is a part of you and if you’re lucky you can share it with others... life is the fairytale, no need to look anywhere or let it happen to experience it. Magic is already a part of you, embrace it. Love yourself and ignore those garbage people that want you to be miserable by telling you that you aren’t letting it happen or can’t find it. You don’t need to find anything because magic is always happening to you so go ahead and enjoy your fairytale!

 

Here’s one about going with it.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Care to dance?

(1-13-2011)

“Care to dance? Find a little comfort in a stranger’s arms?”

“It’s been a while but we’re hardly strangers.”

“Of course we’re not. Come let’s dance for a while.”

“I’m sorry but I wasn’t thinking of dancing just yet.”

“Simply think of it as keeping me company. Nothing of strings, rendezvous, or love affairs. Just a spin around the dance floor. Nothing more than a dance. Foxtrot? Waltz?”

“Hold me. Spin me. Thrill me.”

“Now you have the idea. Tell me what brings you out among the lonely hearts tonight? I thought your dance card was full.”

“It was something like that for a bit. And now I’ve found it to be empty.”

“Well, it won’t be long until your card fills up and the line forms again.”

“I hope you’re right. Shall we old friend? And you can tell me what brings you here.”

“It’s been awhile now. He left before there could be anything. Afraid of what hasn't happen. Beat me to the start like so many times I had in the past. The whole time knowing what it was like as I watched him run out of fear.”

“Do you remember what it was like when you held that fear? Dip.”

“Yes, I remember how the world was. Nothing like it is now. Maybe I could’ve...? I’m a fool.”

“You can’t blame yourself for his actions. We’re all afraid at one point. Some run the wrong way. Was it love?”

“Couldn’t say. I liked him. Nice fellow. There’s no way to know about that now. And the last one that filled your card?”

“She wanted something that wasn’t there. Looking for something when all she had to do was believe in it.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“The dissatisfaction? I don’t know. But it’s nothing I could change. She had to decide.”

“Some people can’t decide.”

“This is true. Feel free to lean in.”

“Can I? It’s not an imposition?”

“Not at all.  I’m enjoying your company.”

“Likewise. This is lovely.”

“It is. But let’s have a spin first. Then you can come closer.”

“Very nice. I had no idea you could dance like this.”

“Thank you. It’s been nice to dance with good company.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve enjoyed this too. And now from the looks of it your card is about to get a new entry.”

“So it is. Care to dance a little longer?”

Romantic

Romance is the excitement in a relationship or friendship that perseveres... it’s not really lighted candles, Fred Astaire ballroom dancing or grand public gestures that people see in the movies. It can be as simple as doing something thoughtful for someone who you care for just because you thought of them. Or spending time together doing something you love. It’s really not a one size fits all. 

One of my favorite romantic gestures involved a guy bringing me a specific kind of lemonade that was out of his way because he thought of me. Look... Every relationship is different and I know a great many platonic friendships that are far more romantic than the couples I know. I think my friends tend to let me wine, dine & spoil them with gifts more than the men I’ve dated. So...

Define your own romance and don’t worry if you aren’t romantic enough. Don’t take romantic advice from garbage humans. They’re only trying to make everyone unhappy. If you have the grand ballroom, candle-lit romance... that’s amazing. If you have sweats and blankies on the couch watching a flick... that’s amazing too. To each their their own. Love is grand in all its shapes and sizes... no matter what. 

What kind of romantic are you? 

Here’s a old story about no one special & nothing really... 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

On the menu

(9-29-2010)

Good evening. Table for two? Right this way.

Ah, well aren’t the two of you sweet enough to eat. Lovebirds. I’ve definitely seen my fair share come through here. Not like you. You seem to be quite the pair. I’m getting a lot of energy coming off this connection you got going.

Well, let’s see where shall we put you? Oh of course there’s a small accompaniment over in the corner of the restaurant if you’d like a song. Not that you’ll be noticing. Especially with the way your eyes are locked onto each other like that…

 I, um, you know what? From the looks of you two, I think I’ve got the perfect table in mind. It’s a bit tucked away with just a little bit of ambiance and privacy for mood. It’s right this way.

If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been together?

Three years. Oh my! You don’t say! Such passion!

Is there anything special I can get for you? Oh you want a bottle of wine. Not a problem. Of course, but that’s a pretty specific year. Is there a reason?

Tonight’s an anniversary! I love it! I could tell there was something special happening here. You see I’m pretty good at guessing these things.

This is really a beautiful spot. The lights and sounds are quite subdued. Don’t you think? Oh well, don’t mind me then. Help yourself to a kiss or few along with a seat. I’ll be right back in a sec with the wine.

The wine.  The glasses. A taste? Perfect.

Alright my lovely lovebirds, would you care for a little food to accompany the romance on the menu?

Not to worry. Enjoy each other. Enjoy the wine. I’ll be back in a little bit for your order.

Fairytale

“Life itself is a most wonderful fairytale.”

-Hans Christian Andersen

Read the fairytale or live it? Life is the fairytale and you get to experience it happening every second you are alive! Don’t let anyone tell you that you haven’t experienced a fairytale because it’s outside of their limited perception. Everyone experiences the miracle of living and it truly is a choice to see the magic & wonder in each moment of it. Some people just don’t stop and take in every moment presently. They wait to live based on things that may or may not happen. 

Things come and go, find gratefulness for everyone & everything that you experience in life. There are no losses when it comes to love, dreams, jobs or friends & family... there only lessons and memories from the good and bad. You can live your own fairytale and you don’t need anyone or a book of any color to tell you how it goes, you just need yourself.  Fight and put in the work... the fairytale exists. When you are discouraged, remember even characters in the books struggle to get their happiness. 

Here’s one about a story... 

Do you experience the magic of living or do you let someone tell you that you’re not or missing out? 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Once

(12-29-10)

“Once.”

“Once upon a time?” 

“I suppose so.”

“Go on then...”

“Once...”

“Upon a time,” 

“...He loved me. Once there was someone who truly loved me. As cliché as it sounds the one thing that really got me through many years alone was knowing that he loved me.”

“Who? G-G-”

“No child. Not your grandfather. He was someone before we met. Don’t get me wrong child your grandfather was a wonderful man but we had a different kind of love. We were both two people that loved each other very much, but in our own way. What endured our relationship all those years was a strong underlying friendship. This man, was my first true love.”

“Tell me more.”

“He wasn’t like your granddad. That’s to be understood. No love affair is the same. Some are passionate. Some are lovely. And some end before they ever start. One thing is that they are without reason. Well, he surprised me. Wasn’t like any man I ever met. A gentler, kinder man. More of a gentleman than he’d think…”

“B..but…”

“I could hear that “but” before you ever got it out. He… couldn’t. The easy way to put this is that he didn’t return like he promised.”

“War?”

“Nothing like that. Things keep people away, sometimes.”

“Would you have married him?”

“Child, I don’t know that answer. That’s from a time that never finished itself. A moment in the past that can never be completed.”

“Huh?”

 “Whatever happened in the past pales in comparison to what is happening right now. That can not be recaptured. No matter how much you want it to be different there is no other way. I’m lucky to have had him in my life. We spent some of the best moments of our life together and I’m glad he was there in my life. But I continued to have a sweet life with your grandfather.”

“Happily ever after!”

“A fairytale that has been a joy to live and even sweeter because I have you.”

Haunted

We are only haunted by the past if we choose to be... When you are ready to let go of looking back to see who you were and compare yourself, then you will find peace. Who you are is a choice and based on the decisions you make in the present... the past is an illusion that plays tricks on you and the future isn’t set. Love yourself enough not to be haunted by what can not be changed. Only a ghost is stuck... between then and now. 

Here’s something I wrote about 9 years ago... about living with a ghost. Do you believe in ghosts? 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m. 

Sleeping with Ghosts 

(10-4-2009)


Sleeping with ghosts. I don’t believe in ghosts. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Yet here I am again waiting for a spirit. An entity to appear. Often I wonder, are you in my head? Truly this is madness that I’m alone in. Do I walk away? No. I wait. Here in the dark, in the silence of this old house, I wait for you to return. Each time only brings me closer to understanding true madness. I don’t want to believe. The moon rises and the shadows move across the old wooden floor. The movement seems to dance before my eyes. I’m no longer alone. The cold air against my skin sends chills up my spine and goose bumps down my arms.

Each sound that resonates in the house has me on edge. Every thump against the south wall makes me tremor in anticipation. My heart is pounding in my chest and I’m completely in rapture wondering when you’ll arrive. To any other person the small sounds would be completely nerve-wracking, but to me they provide comforting relief. The signals that precede the visits are unmistakable, the pounding noises, the intermittent phone rings, and the phantom music. In fact, the quiet nights are truly the most restless, as they indicate the unknown. When it’s quiet I wonder if any of this real or purely my imagination gone array. That this is a sadistic punishment executed when I allow myself to get carried away.

My grandmother once told me the Dead watched the living. Sitting, standing and existing alongside us, as they studied our patterns. Our every moments, they shadowed in silence. As the dead have no way of showing their existence. They no longer understand what it’s like to be human; suffering and passion, our emotions. Such things captivate them. Occasionally a human is flawed; cursed to interact with these entities often to the misfortune of that poor soul’s mind. Such extraordinary individuals tend to lose the very thread of sanity due to these frequent interactions with spirits. As a child, I was reluctant to take note of the hidden meaning behind her stories. However as an adult, I understand all too well. Ghosts - watching, yearning and occasionally manifesting to select few.

The first manifestation should have frightened me but it didn’t. Actually I practically ignored its presence as noise and flickering lights in an old house. What caught my attention was the movement. The books stacked on the table collapsed without warning. Upon investigation, I found myself face to face with something not quite human, and not quite dead. Curiosity getting the better of me had definitely led down some unfortunate paths in the past. But that night I couldn’t help myself, so I spoke and reached out a hand. This ‘spirit’ responded in a fashion by moving closer and touching my hand before dissipating. Each night for what seemed like an eternity, we’d play cat and mouse. Hiding from one other and guessing the next move. Hauntings should be frightening, but this was more like a game that I looked forward to each and every day. Perhaps it was just the beginning of true madness, but this ghostly manifestation proved to be more intriguing and less intrusive.

How do you continue to accept something that you don’t believe in? There’s the question that requires a leap of faith. Not knowing where the next manifestation will be. Wondering if the whispers in the house are purely the old noises of my ancestors or your ghost here to haunt? The moments of silence are those times I dread most; the uncertainty of this dark obsession. Truly it is darkness that draws me in. The dead only watch the living and do not cross the line without purpose. Your desire is to possess my spirit and you’ve made it thoroughly clear. However, when you ask for my life and beg me join you in the realm of the dead, I decline and attempt to shut you out. As if I could ever truly shut you out. Mere mortal that I am, this possession is beyond my understanding. Ultimately I question whether you’ll stop asking and just take it without warn as you do not comprehend my grasp of life and the desire to remain among the living. Although this thought rests in the back of my mind, I do not fear your return. Whether you’re here to take my essence or an evil spirit sent to consume my life, it does not matter; I eagerly await your return.

Sitting in the dark waiting. The moon’s shadow continues to dance along the floor boards in the darkness of the room. The cool air gently stirs across the bare skin of my arms. Shivers run up and down my spine as I can feel you enter the room and cross towards me. My heart races as phantom hands find their way across my neck, along my arms and down my back. I’m haunted and shall remain so…

Haunted.