explosions in the sky

we face the destruction. we face the end of all things. we face the falling stars and burning atmosphere with tears of joy, for its together that we face our eternal life. stone statues crumble, fortresses are toppled, the powers that be are no longer anything but meek crickets chirping the final song heard among the bombs, the gunfire, the four horsemen. this is it now.

i will always come back to you. in the end, everything is for you.

some say the old truism of a soulmate is the soul's recognition of its counterpoint in another. long grown out of these fairy tales and legends, i cannot place faith into these precocious dreams, whispered to children pre-war, the age of white-laced innocence as opposed to the violent hand lady fortuna deals with apathy.

but what is this magnetic field that still exists, pulling me back, back into the sea from where i came, back to where you'll always find me. the tides inside of me churn in opposition, between what is right and what is real, but you're clouding up my mind with all the miracle that you are.

hurdling towards the darkening of the earth, the descent into abiding winter, i see my peace. i see montana skies on cold mornings, i see summer breeze rushing through a car with open windows, i see golden wheat fields stretching for ages, i see endless sky. i see first snows, i see cerulean water at my feet, i see fireworks, i see what lies beyond those western mountains. i see cigarettes burning, i see the old porch swing. i see my child, i see my promises, i see red rivers flowing with no sign of ceasing.

but most of all, i see you. i see you, and i feel you, and i smell you, and i taste you, and i know you, and your hand stays in mine, as we enter this infinite sleep upon wings of the world's dying breath. my dying breath. i see lights.

your hand in mine.

unfaithful

so this is what judas the betrayer feels.
this is the high the addicts chase until their last rattled breath escapes them.
this is the destruction we all privately seek out, like the drug dealers in the filth ridden, putrid alley ways, so far away from suburban white washed bliss.

every moment of these past two days i've wondered how i can go about recapturing the adrenaline. reliving the sin, just one more time. no, more than one more time. as many times as i can stand it.

my heart didn't break as thoroughly as i'd predicted it would when the lights went off and my skirt went up.
in fact i could barely feel the splinters in my chest as strong hands cupped my arched back, and hot shivers traveled up and down and around and in between my thighs.
i didn't even hear it break between the panicked whispers, rushing gasps, and occasional moan emitted from one or the other party.

"i think we need a break," i say through weepy mascara tears.
i drive away, leaving his dumbfounded expression in the drifting cotton snow. through my tears i manage to send a short, to the point text.

"i'm coming over."
barely a few moments later, a response.
"alright beautiful."


what we are depends solely on our choices. the choices of the unfaithful reveals them for what they are.
the weak.


hey, we've all gotta get our fix one way or another.