Didn't know I had it till it was gone...
me now
sweet_ramona
Standing here in the middle of the street. Don't know which way is safe, or which way is danger. I lift one foot, right after the other. Hoping not to step on a crack, I hear it could be bad for my dear mom.

The wind blows hard and raises my dress. It isn't as embarassing as I had once thought it was. I am still walking in the same direction, I lift one foot, right after the other. Guess this is the right way, it seems safe.

Spoke too soon and lost my head.
Spoke too soon and lost my way home.

Now here I am laying in the gutter. Some man is running, from what he has just done. I look down to find my limbs are still attached. Although I don't feel whole anymore. He must have taken something I didn't know had.

caged
me now
sweet_ramona
My heart is clinging to my ribcage once again. I guess it knows how the caged bird feels. I tore through the feilds of green. Grasping my chest and falling to my knees. I wished and wished for a heart attack. You held me close and whispered my name. When I opened my eyes you were gone.

We do not know our strength
me now
sweet_ramona
The breeze filled my ears with whispers. I know not who they were from, but I did listen. They told me of my fate. Closing my eyes I breathed in all that I could. I felt the rhythm of natures song flowing through my viens. I licked the rain off my lips and repressed the tears. There is no time for that, not now. Opening my eyes once again I see the clouds above, raining down upon my head.

"How can such beautiful creatures be so cruel?" I hear a wounded bird ask.
"They do not know they are." I reply.

Dedication (work in progress)
me now
sweet_ramona
He sits the phone near the speaker.
Plays it really loud.
It feels like I'm there.
It feels like I'm there.
He says things that only he can.
Louder into the phone.
Louder into the air.
He was always good at these things.
Always better than I am.
He was always good at being bad.
Always better than I am.

He sits the phone near the speaker.
Our song floating in the wind.
It feels like he's here with me.
It feels like we're there.
I want to tell him things.
Things only he could understand.
Louder into the phone.
Louder into the air.
He was always good at these things.
Always better than I am.
He was always good at being the victim.
I always held the gun in my hand.

Tangled in innocence in my bed.

Thoughts at Random
me now
sweet_ramona
I stood in the shower for an hour. Velvet Underground bleeding through the walls into my bathroom. Calling me back to a time when I had ambitions, dreams. The light humming of the ceiling fan in the next room makes me moan in annoyance. This is home. With its rattles and clangs, this is home.

The water drips from my body as I reach for a towel. The cat meows loudly at me, breaking my Zen state. I dry myself from head to toe. Talking to my companion the cat, she sits silently in front of me. No longer howling like a banshee.

The mirror seems to be calling me names today. I guess there are truths in what she says, but my reflection has no right to tell me. Not that anyone does. No one but me and I would never admit such flaws. Standing there naked I realize I am not the frail broken girl of my youth. Now I am a woman. I am no longer broken, just a bit cracked.

The cat hovers below my feet. What she wants, I am not sure. We are both alike in that way. Never knowing what we want, but always howling at the gods for it. She slinks off into the other room and I follow, pulling my robe tight. The music has stopped and the only evidence that it was on is the song stuck in my head. Humming I step out into the brightly lit living room, the warm sun beaming into me.

I close my eyes in this silence and wonder how I can keep it. This perfectly lit silence. I want to take a picture, but I know it won’t capture what I see. It won’t capture that feeling that warms me. Making my insides flutter about like butterflies in a jar waiting to get out. In this moment I feel as if I have been her before. With this tangled feeling that spreads through my body. Have I been here? Have I felt this feeling before?

Opening my eyes I decide it is time for more music. The silence is no longer comfortable. I wish I could make my own music, a perfect song for this mood. But I haven’t learned to play the guitar leaning against the book shelf. Not yet. I imagine one day I will write a song to describe this feeling. Till then I will just write down my thoughts at random.

Nervous Thoughts
me now
sweet_ramona
I feel as if my nerves are
Rattling, tangling, tattling on me.
I move real slow.
I talk real low.
Still the feeling never seems to leave.

Strangers Collide in Dreams.
me now
sweet_ramona
Standing on the street dreaming of your face.
Glowing.
Waiting on that train to somewhere.
Forever.
Love has taken a swing at me.
Love has taken you from my grasp again.

Standing on the bridge now,
Staring at my reflection in the water down below.
I hear you; you’re out there singing stories.
Glowing.
Purring softly as the wind blows.

Lying in the grass, in the park.
The pictures, they lie now, visions blurry.
Glowing.
Grass stains on my skin.
Love stains, right through me.

(inspired by the song that has been stuck in my head)

Memories Forgotten
Swing
sweet_ramona
Close your eyes and crawl to the back of your mind.
The place where you keep memories.

Thumb through the files of time and find:

Walks in the rain.
Kisses on the nose.
Smiles in the dark.
Songs that make you smile.
Faces you’ll never see again.
Dreams.
Flower crowns.
Wishes that came true, but you had forgotten.


Now let these things free.
Unlock the door that keeps them hidden.
Remember all that has been forgotten.
Then open your eyes and find you.

Come and Go
me now
sweet_ramona
"In memory everything seems to happen to music." -Tennessee Williams

Our song was playing on the radio. I clinched my fist and howled a bit. Funny how emotions come and go. Just like you. Just like I. I know how your face looked, how you smelt, how you felt. I even know how your voice had that gentel hum.

Story...
Swing
sweet_ramona
So this is based on my father's death. It's not a poem. Just a short splurt of a story. This is personal, but I wanted to write it to get out of me. I think it is good to turn this into something creative. Although it is a rough draft.

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