It’s 3am, losing a battle to insomnia
has become a conflict between the soul and the heart. Roll over on my
side and feel the quiet agony of my bum shoulder. There, in the darkness
of my nights, you are.
A picture of you. A picture of
me. A ceiling fan spinning my Caruso. Could swear it was
eviscerating me with a serenade that was deserving. My Wide-awake
thoughts can climb the ivy of a cathedral.
Stare into your eyes you could see a
love I had never experienced. You quickly looked away in disgust.
Only you could do this to me. A moment captured in you empty eyes.
Broken.
When you find yourself alone, if you
think of me, think of dying leaves as they snap from trees. When they
gather and get lost in the mountain of thought. It’s only until this moment,
this one second, I realize the cold chill of darkness and I beg for your
warmth.
We all capture seconds, minutes,
hours, days, moments you roll out your soul on an empty platter. When she
touches your face. When she kisses you with an abandonment, a want, a
desire greater than who you are. Moments when you can’t catch your breath
because of her presence. You realize who owns your heart.
To feel so alive again. To
crawl out of your own skin. To give all you are. Only the warm
burning sensation of this bottle of Glenlivet can sooth the bleeding
heart. Sealed for 18 years, opened to help me breath, to attempt to
resuscitate a soul. To numb a heart from feeling.
Oh these sleepless nights.
Ruthless thoughts of someone else holding you. The agony of another man’s
skin keeping you warm. It leaves my body cold and callous and without
reproach.
“What happened when two people
committed to each other? What happened to forever?” Questions from
a friend, between two boys trying to discover what they had not learned in
life. Ironically one boy would learn to be a man while the other would
continue to roam a world searching for his missing piece to complete his heart.
Roaming a world with a broken soul,
knowing it is you who is that missing
piece. Maybe the purpose set in front of us sometimes does not agree with
life. Maybe life gets in the way? How much would one give to scream
that with you the world is, insignificant. With you I realized the
separation of the seconds from my minutes and give me the hours which have
become my days.
I’m sorry. I am forever apologetic that nothing inside
of me ever gave you the days that became months, months into years. With
you the stars feel small in my eternity. Tonight when I roll over and
stare at your smile, realize that it’s your eyes that hold the keys to this
soul. It’s the warmth of your skin making me feel alive.
“La piel de un hombre es pequeña sin
el calor de una mujer con ojos de cariño” Rick Ramos
Me
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