It doesn’t take much. A glimpse. A word. A titty.

The smallest distraction, and it’s gone. Whatever I was thinking about. Whatever I wanted to get down on paper. Gone. Poof. Not even a puff of smoke.

Writing is hard these days. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why she’s here. This poor, tortured soul whom I’ve gotten to know. She has beauty. Inside and out. Dancing with so much ugliness.

The beauty? Innate. The ugliness? That was given to her. A gift.

A profound, disappointing gift. Yet she accepted it.

We’re taught, it’s impolite to refuse a gift. So we accept... everything. Even if it harms us.

Can two lost souls ever find happiness? Probably not.

Yesterday, there was so much hate in her eyes. She’s angry at life. The world. And yesterday, she took it out on me. It wasn’t the first time. And it won’t be the last.

She knows I see her. That I’m the only one in her world who does. I reminded her of that. Not to take out her frustration on me.

Not five minutes later, the apology. She knows. She really is a storm of emotions. Of conflicting desires.

Aren’t they all, though?

Simply a storm. Or maybe the sea to my shore.

My own will to live is inside this woman. Deep, deep inside. Each time, I can only hope to plug in deeper... yet I still cannot reach that which eludes me. Thrusting with the essence of my very soul, striving to penetrate her spark.

What i'm listening to:

Stormy
Classics IV
Mamas and Papas/Soul Train