undercover spy
private eye
double agent
mole
smooth criminal
schooled in espionage and capable of assuming various personalities
covert ops
surveillance
lurking
slinking
wiretapping
staking it out
But the jig is up, James Bond
you’ve been
found out
discovered
exposed
unveiled
recognized
No more pussy galore for you
Son,
Today is your 15th birthday, and I’m very proud of the young man you’re becoming, but it doesn’t make me miss the little boy any less.
I miss your questions and your belief that I still had things to tell you, because it’s been replaced by you thinking you know it all and you have nothing left to learn from me, or the world.
I miss your smiles and your genuine joy at seeing me when I’d been away for short periods of time, because it’s been replaced by your seemingly nonchalant demeanor about us now being separated by miles.
I miss your little hand in mine and your excitement and readiness to go anywhere with me, as everything was always an adventure, because it’s been replaced by your attitude that nothing is ever much fun and you’d rather sit home and play video games or read.
I miss your snuggles and hugs and little boy smooches, because even now when you hug me you never squeeze me as tight as you did when you were little and uninhibited about showing affection.
But most of all, today I miss you because you’re halfway across the country and I can’t run into your room this morning yelling Happy Birthday and telling you once again about the day you were born and how it was the best day of my life.
Just so you know, I’ll always see that little boy every time I look in your face, even when you’re 40.
I love you!!!
Mom
The song of you
is stuck in my head
It resonates like a tuning fork
I hum another tune
but it is drowned out by your melody
I want you to take your one man band elsewhere
Get it off my street corner
so I can allow another man’s song
to replace your lyric
which was filled with fables and broken promises
Photo Credit: felixgi.deviantart.com
I lived in a walled fortress most of the time. . . with a moat. . .and a dragon. But no knights. My life doesn’t currently have, and has never had a knight, or a true partner. Mind you, I know knights don’t exist in anyone’s world except Walt Disney’s, and truth be told, after the shit relationships I’ve subjected myself to, I should probably come with a warning label.
If any man ever happens to express interest in me again, here is what I would want him to read on my label:
I think this about covers the basics. If you’re still here and have an interest in understanding more about me, then maybe you give a shit and you’re interested in sticking around. If not, that’s cool too, and I get it. The rollercoaster isn’t for everyone.
This time last year, I loved you, and thought there was still a small chance you loved me.
Now I wonder if you ever loved me, or if it was just easy to type because the words in print, held no weight.
It always seemed when we talked that you would have trouble forming the words in your mouth, and I don’t remember you ever saying it first, but only in response to my telling you.
I’m not sure what hurt worse: knowing you didn’t love me anymore, or the realization that you may have never loved me.
Someone
come
and banish these ghosts
from that which is my mind
Sage burnt
does not chase them away
nor salt at the thresholds
Only one pair of arms
shall perform the exorcism
I seek
with incantations whispered into my soul
lead my parched heart to an oasis before it dies of thirst
i have sand coursing through my veins
i cough dust and choke on the inhumanity of man
as i wash down the deceit with dirt
my body an empty shell
filled with the salt of the Dead Sea
bring me water on your tongue
for my shriveled soul
I knew the minute you held my hand
your fingers didn’t intertwine with mine
you didn’t grab it like you never wanted to let it go
it felt awkward
uncomfortable
like it was difficult for our palms to be touching
foreign and out of place
your hand was an intruder
it didn’t belong
after all that time
months spent loving your from afar
I knew the minute you held my hand
you didn’t really love me
You were the worst kind of wolf in sheep’s clothing
cleverly concealing your incisors
distracting with gallantry and double speak
drawing me ever closer to the
quilt of lies and chaos under which you laid
“Let me soothe you”
“I am not like all the others”
“Feel safe with me beautiful”
“I love you”
What big lies you have!
lies which swallowed me whole
sucking me into their vortex
spinning me ’round and ’round
threatening to drown me
and silence my inner knowing
Me, ingesting my doubt
instead of spewing it out so I wouldn’t aspirate on it
You, being the wolf you are
saw all the goodies in the basket I carried
and knew all the right words to
make me relinquish them
Whatever was your purpose?
except to stroke your big bad canis lupus ego
Eventually the woodsman will catch up with you
you looter and plunderer
and cast a downfall upon you
the likes of which
not even your pack will be able to rescue you from
I, walk away
to face another day
wrapping my crimson cloak tighter round
vowing
to never be hoodwinked by a wolf again
Fiction, and other made-up stories
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
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