Wanting

*came across this on my other blog (that i forgot the password too) and thought i'd post it up here. I wrote it in 2006 and damn... he he


A person you've never met - only seen.
how could you want, need?
to have a longing for what you can never have - a weak grasp.
to stand in one position, one place and live one way.
to have subtractions of hope at every airing.
how can something you never hadbe taken away?
a possession only believed by you.
the theory is what hurts.
picture perfect exists in the minds of those who believe.
flaws, the stones which pave the road to intimacy.

flaws, my worst enemies.
nothignw ill be picture perfect.
i don't believe - not yet.

a cure for the unfaithful, seems futuristic.
will a medicine heal the eyes of oblivion?
will therapy endure the unsatified mind?
a listener to the web of errors, could only be another ticket sold
to the already existing audience.

if things were picture perfect.
could one sitll be faithful?
could the stones rearrange themselves again?
the grasp of a hand couldn't clench any tighter onto something -
if a pulse is not there.
with a pulse comes the conscience
which will prevail? will the pulse grab on; reasons of the physical
or will the conscience grab hold; reasons of the good and moral?
Perfect is impossible but the chase for it; neverending.

The Common Cellar of Cries

A commonality, in which we can't live with out.
A need that we so desperately seek to fulfill.
The cause of an effect we fantasize.

A tear I let escape.
The quick twist of my neck, to hide my weakness.
But as the trees and cars blur their way past me,
my reflection does not smear with speed,
it stays poise and searches my face for a reason...

Why is it you cry Cristina?
i don't know.
Are you sad?
no.
Are you scared?
no.
Are you lonely?
no.

Are you happy?
no.

My reflections blurs, and a cool sensation holds tight onto my lower lids.
My feelings cannot be placed into the ambiguousness of words, or images i could describe.
But i will try...

I cried because...

Finally I was standing in a dark, cold cellar - with someone else.
Two souls, so unsure of what lay ahead of them, but so sure of finding their dreams.
Me and him - trees of the changing seasons,
at moments blanketed in lush, vivid emotions but more so,
left bare, naked, desperate for warmth.

I cried not because i was lonely, and that i found someone...
I cried because finally someone trusted me enough to stand by them in their cellar.

Keys Playing my Escape

Here's an idea - let's escape.
just me and you.

Let's open the door, watch as another world is revealed to us,
one we have yet to discover, explore, enjoy.
We'll stare at the floral wallpaper, gleaming in the moonlight - so late at night.
I'll stand behind him and peer beneath his lengthened arm drawing the door wider and wider.
I'll see the chestnut dresser and think,
tonight my clothes will not be folded and guarded by its walls,
they will lay sporadic, loose on the floor.
What's the floor like?
I'll look down and see a dark, stained carpet - who walked upon it? what were they like? what were the expecting of the night?

What will it be like to finally close my eyes, and sway to my own rhythm? What will be like to lift my arms in the air and dance slowly upon that stained floor? I will dance.
And I'll think of nothing,
but me dancing.
How it feels...
how my body flows over the piano keys,
how i reach on my tiptoes as the notes fly into the stale air,
how all my energy is concentrated on letting go.



That's my escape.
Would you come?

What if?

I can't stop thinking about him.
He is welcome but he should not be.
I am confused - unable to understand my own motives,
reasons for writing the blizzard in my mind.
He is nice. He speaks of friendship as if it were necessary,
and relationships, unnecessary - a hassle.
I see in him moments of consideration - what if?
I see in him moments of consideration reflected from me.
Is it I who is asking, what if?
It is I who wants to try it out. Get the sensation
of doing wrong - the adrenaline of running away.
I welcome it - the childish woman who pulls me into an abyss,
of raw emotions - wrong emotions.
I know who you want me to be - but I am not her.
I do not - cannot - be her.

So goodbye darling, I must find someone new to lay at my side.
I must travel to a new world and discover its glory,
feed upon what it offers me. Sink my nails into its earth.
I must travel because attachments, I fear.
So goodbye darling, I must find someone new to welcome by sexual submissiveness.
It has been great darling. The moments of security, smiles of understanding and lips pursing for more.

But goodbye my dear.
I must runaway with these raw - wrong - emotions.
And find fragmented moments of peace.
It is all I deserve - all that I want.

I always thought that I'd be better off if i isolated every part of my life - never let them bleed into one another.

Now I realize, that we're better off holding everything we care about in one hand, rather than reaching in mid air for each one individually.

What do you know?

Which is better?

To be ignorant as a result of knowing?
Or
To be ignorant as a result of not knowing?

Blah Blah Blah.