I can’t believe it…21 weeks. At this time,I would have been adimit in finding out that you were a girl. However,the signs early on, all told me that you were going to be my first girl. Now, I know,I’d probably hoped for twins but not this time. You were the only one. And boy, was the feeling exciting. I wonder what I would look like now, would I have bump?( well, seeing that I started to get one around 6 weeks…it would have been obvious) Would I have felt all you’re little movements? Would it have felt like butterflies or a weird contortion out of a sci-fi movie? Nonetheless, I would be rubbing my belly, talking to you, anticipating when I’ll see your angelic face.
Guilt still floods me when I see new parents. Anger haunts me every time I talk to what would had been your father. To know he would rather choose to put your mother on the back burner, rather than work as a collective, you don’t deserve that baby. You deserve a father who will just dottle over his little girl. Move mountains to ensure your safety. Look into your eyes and reassure you that you have nothing to worry about and that he will be there as you first protector over your little heart. Neither of those things have happen with your unexpected,pending arrival. To feel alone in a decision that I find at times I may have made selfishly, he didn’t share the same feeling. How can I reassure you that he loved you if I can’t even reassure you if the decision was a responsible one from him? I want to but I swore that I would never lie to my children. Is it cruel? Yes my child it is and it pains me deeply. But you deserve honesty. And I will give it to you as soft as I can possibly.
My sweet angel, you mean more than life itself to me. You are what people say, “a heart outside of ones body” and I can imagine your sweet smile and your sing-song laugh, filling my heart in cracks that I thought would ever be filled. Ah, the anticipation
I have given you that name that has been sitting on my heart, Genesis Luna Williams. Genesis: The beginning, the birth of a world that is filled with promise and light. Luna: as beautiful and gracious to see the day, I anticipate the night where the sky is filled by the moons light. Where the endless stars shine so bright, knowing that’s where you reside. My daughter. My fairy amongst the garden of Eden. My delicate water lily on the meadow. I love you.
“I love you”
That’s what they all say….that’s what they have all said. Every. Last. One. Of. Them. And not to say, it makes me feel good. Another part of me wants to scream. Gouge my eyes and the very essence that these lovers have with me. Flattery can only go so far before you start to reconsider your self worth. This new one has particularly thrown a curve ball of some sort. Now, love itself is a never ending game of ups and downs, twist and turns but this particular method of ride was foreign.
Another meaningless thing, yet has me reconsidering possibilities of potential happiness. A everlasting forever type of effect that has my logic clouded. Like a child,waiting for her father to return from war, the very anticipation of the future is in view. You dont feel like you’re the only “old maid” because of all of your friends are taking the next steps of life with matrony and motherhood. Now, you, your self, just want a taste of that thrill. Or projected excitement of adulthood.
I, however, linger in the rhlem of one night thrills and orgasms. Empty promises whispered into the night while he thrust himself into me. Conforming in positions and exploration of the sexual jungle in which I am a prowless. A lust predator, waiting for the next soul for me to ravish; leaving nothing but memories while I stay starved. Parshed and anticipating the next. Having the option of which lover to devour.
If echoed on a continuous repeat, it drives you mad. Clawing at the very inside that leaves you inhibitions to the wind. Manifesting to this idea of that the very possibility of a relationship is ablicable. Whereas, in reality, it is not. It can never be. A lion does not curl up with its carcass after a meal. In order for one to have the mentality such as this, it causes disconsern. Questioning whether its delusion or actuality. The very thing I keep out is the very thing that I want,in? It leaves the very sour taste in my mouth that gargle can’t erase the fact that I had told myself what it is, numerous times. To question the obvious is stupidity.
“I love you”…
Yeah, I know…as much as I try to convince myself.
” I love you “
Sure…only moments of time does that very feeling ignite…or a imitation of lust in which can’t be despihered during sex. Panting…wincing…crying out in sheer bliss. The fire that continues to dance on each nerve ending with ever touch… Caress. To say I do not love that would be a lie within itself, but the truth is much more painful…much more darker than the beautiful lie. Dwell in the falsehood that seconds create only leavesthe want more. To take the very nature that drives desire and become a succubus. With a sheer glance, the engery is overwhelming. Confusing that with the emotion of love, leaves the devilish side in which the act of sex has become.
“I love you”
“I promised I’ll be loyal to you”
“I wanna show you how much you mean to me”
“I have fallen in love”
“You my girl?”
The secrets she keeps….close to her…creates an understow…slowly…drowning her…but alas…there is her air…her black air…she inhales…leaves her disoriented…her not telling from what is real and what is fake…what her heart could possibly take…if its nothing….nothing but pain.
The secrets she keeps locked away…thrown into the sea…never to be heard from again…she bury it deep…into the sealife to engluf…though it spits it out…when there is nothing left for her to piece together…whether its faith or hope…it weighs on her…like concrete.
The secrete she keeps…keeps her away from the cold grips of loneliness. She hold on to longing…long enough for it to numb her logic…she desire it…she craves it…it caves in on her…
The secret she keeps chains and binds her…blinds her from the truth. That she could…be more than her past…that the key to release is acceptance. Love can enter her, belief awakens her….to be great. To love her. To believe In her.
The secrets she keeps…keeps her awake a night…send tears down her eyes…breaks away at her spirit…piece by piece…her porcelain chips away. A shell..of…nothing.
Darkness in the secrets that she keeps. Unable to reach the light. Running away… Just to stay…still.