All of Her: Prologue (Alternate Version)

"I'm still in love with all of her."

I say nothing. I barely hear anything else he says. He keeps talking, but my heart is breaking. I'm stuck on repeat. The only thing I can hear is my heart, fit to burst from my chest.

"I'm still in love with all of her."

I know its true. I'm not blind; anymore. Its as if the gauze has been torn from my sight. How had I not seen the love radiating from her face? How did I not notice?

She's standing a short distance away, barely out of ear-shot, and he is staring off and into her distance. She's smiling, glowing, practically basking in the light of his love. I recognize that smile. Its the same one I used to have plastered to my, idiotic, face. Its the same smile I had a week ago. I realize that I will never smile like that again.

How can I when I am watching the love of my life fall even more in love with my best friend?

"I'm still in love with all of her."

"Stop saying that!" I say, practically shrieking out the words. David looks back at me, startled.

"I didn't say anything."

I look at him, sheepishly. Having no explanation for my odd behaviour, I bite my lip and turn away.

"Abra," he touches my shoulder. "are you alright?"

The gall. The absolute gall.

"Am I 'alright?'" I ask, turning back toward him and shaking off his hand. "Yes, David. I'm absolutely, completely, fucking peachy. The love of my life stood me up, on our wedding day, and then has the audacity to tell me that he is in love with my best friend. I've never been better."

Dumbfounded, he just blinks at me.

"I... I'm sorry." he stammers. I wave off his apology as if it smelled bad. The thought that I should be nice flits into my head. I mean, you can't help who you love, right? As quickly as it entered, it is chased out by anger and pain. I feel like I might vomit. I feel like I'm going to start screaming, or laugh hysterically. It is, in a way, comical.

She's looking back at us again. Her face is slightly cloudy, concern warring with the sunshine of love.

"Go." I say, turning away. "You're going to leave with her anyway, you might as well leave now."

He doesn't even hesitate. I guess that tells me all I need to know.

All of Her: Prologue (Edit #?)

"I'm still in love with all of her."

I say nothing. What is there to say, really? I barely hear anything else he says, not that it matters. He keeps talking, as if this conversation were about what to have for lunch. Or something just as bland. He doesn't even notice that my heart is breaking. It feels like it is disintegrating, crumbling into nothing inside my chest.

His words are echoing in my skull. I'm stuck on repeat. All I can hear is that awful sentence and my heart, fit to burst from my chest. I know that he is telling the truth. I don't even have to look at them to know it is true. I look anyway, because I'm already drunk on the pain so why not? She's smiling, lit up by the sunshine of his love.

"I'm still in love with all of her."

I'm not blind; anymore. Its like the gauze has been ripped from my eyes. How did I not see it before? How could I have been so completely clueless? Looking at it now, I can imagine them entangled, wrapped up in pink sheets; their pink flesh fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. How did I miss this?

Am I an idiot for wishing he was looking at me?

She's standing a short distance away, barely out of ear-shot, and he is staring off and into her distance. She's still smiling at him, practically basking in the assurances of his love. I recognize that smile. Its the same one I had plastered across my, idiotic, face. Once. I can still remember that feeling; being loved and believing his sunlight would always shine on me. That smile, the one she wears now, is the same smile I was wearing just a few weeks ago. How did I not recognize that look before now?

The whole beach feels like it is trying to swallow me whole. Everything is rolling beneath my feet and he is rocking away from me and into her arms. I just stand there. I try to smile, like everything is okay, but it wobbles with knowing the truth. He doesn't notice. I will never smile, like her, again.

How can I when I am watching the love of my life fall even more in love with my best friend?

"I'm still in love with all of her."

"Stop saying that!" I say, practically shrieking. David looks back at me, startled.

"I didn't say anything."

I look at him, sheepishly. Having no explanation for my odd behaviour, I bite my lip and turn away.

I feel like getting drunk. I feel like I've been punched in the chest. My whole body aches. Its all just so ridiculous. It isn't fair, of course, but I can see that it doesn't matter what is fair and what is not.

"Abra," he touches my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

The gall. The absolute gall.

"Am I 'alright?'" I ask, turning back toward him and shaking off his hand. "Yes, David. I'm absolutely, and completely, fucking peachy. The love of my life stood me up, on our wedding day, and then has the audacity to tell me that he is in love with my best friend. I've never been better."

Dumbfounded, he just blinks at me.

"I... I'm sorry." he stammers. I wave off his apology as if it smelled bad. The thought that I should be nice flits into my head. I mean, you can't help who you love, right? As quickly as it entered, it is chased out by my anger and pain. I feel like I might vomit. I feel like I'm going to start screaming, or laugh hysterically. It is, in a sick and twisted way, quite comical.

She's looking back at us again. Her face is slightly cloudy, concern warring with the sunshine of love.

"Go." I say, turning away. "You're going to leave with her anyway, you might as well leave now."

I turn back in time to watch him walk away and I have to resist the urge to chase after him. I feel like screaming at him, like grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. I wish I could slap some sense into them both. Or perform a relationship saving lobotomy. Well, relationship saving for me, not so much for them. I watch them, their shadows seeming to swim off into the sunset, like a couple of mer-people to Atlantis. Or maybe that is my broken heart's imagination.

I turn to leave, again, but I can't seem to make my feet move. Instead, I turn back and see them kissing. Alice and David, off in their own personal wonderland, in love and laughing. They're smiling, that sweet and innocent smile of a first, and only, love. Damn, why did I look back?

I'm feeling like I've just been turned into a pillar of salt; frozen and slightly raw, like the wound just got vigourously scrubbed.

The time has come, the walrus says, to talk of many things. He's right, of course, even talking walruses can be right. I don't feel like talking. Not to a talking walrus or anyone else. God, I hate Alice so much right now. I never thought it was possible to hate someone so much, but, looking at her with David, I could almost spit acid. I could almost go up to them and wring her pretty, swan-like, neck.

Why couldn't they just disappear as soon as I looked back? Would that be too much to ask for?

Despite my desire, nothing changes the fact that Alice and David are still canoodling and I am just standing there. Caught up in my stupid daydreams. If only I had super powers or something, I could destroy Alice and live happily ever after. With David. Like I was supposed to. If only she were my ugly step-sister, who cut off her nose to spite her face, I could win him back with my perfectly fitted glass slippers and my obvious charm. He would realize he is the only Prince Charming there has ever been for me and everything will be right with the world.

Now I'm just rambling.

"I'm still in love with all of her."

Those words are still echoing in the air around me. I have to get out of here. I need distance. I'm not running away.

He didn't even hesitate when I told him to go. I guess that tells me all I need to know.

A Skin full of Flowers

The flowers are blooming on my skin again.

Angry purple.
Violet-red.
Ever expanding.

They try to flood up, and out.
Growing toward a sunny sky that doesn't exist.

Argentina.

I am off to Argentina.

Wine dripping off my wrists.
Spanish honey flowing from my tongue.

I am wild.
I am abrasive.
I am exotic.

And I fly like eagles toward the sun.

Seasons

Summer
Silver smells like Fish.
Slick, shiny, scales shimmering at the bottom of a plastic bucket.

Green smells like the Earth after it Rains.
Great, gray, giants encircling the sky like lovers entwined.

Autumn
Red tastes like Her skin.
Ripe, rich, every touch like satin through my fingers.

Orange sounds like crackling Fire.
Ocherous, over-arching, flames dancing with shadows.

Winter
Blue tastes like Snowflakes.
Basking, bundled, in the snowy sunlight.

Brown tastes like Hot Chocolate.
Brushing, burning, fingers across her face.

Spring
Pink sounds like Her giggles.
Prancing, pleasantly, from her plump lips and perfuming the air.

Yellow feels like Sunshine.
Yawning, young, daffodils stretching out their arms to the sun.

Coffee Triolet

She sips sharpness,
rich with dark notes,
painting napkins, finesse.
She sips sharpness,
cream colored darkness,
music to a palate floats.
She sips sharpness,
rich with dark notes.

Anchored.

You kept me anchored.
But the time has come to let me fly.
Love me still, please, just know its time.
I can't stay here forever, waiting for the world to let my wings be tried.
You have to let me go.

At the Corner (02/12/2014)

At the corner of
"kiss" and "me"
I found your mouth and
I tasted  your soul.

Child

You bring your birth-marks, your runny noses and your hopping toads to me. Questioning all that the world has to offer because you are new to all the wonder. If only being new to the wonder meant that you would never experience the pain.

The Hospital Room.

The scent of the hospital room clings to my skin like saran wrap to a plate.
Its not too cold or too warm, it is tepid and smells faintly of chloraseptic.
You are lying in the too big bed, your limbs purpled from the needles,
bruises stamped across your flesh like a child's sticker-book.

Your lids are half open, heavy from drugs you would never have taken,
if you were willing. All of you sags into the bed, hidden in folds of too
white blankets and a gown that does nothing to flatter your body.
You look wilted, like a flower in a too sunny window with no water.

Most of what you say comes out in mumbles and indistinguishable
gasps. You are shrinking, but expanding at the same moment. You
look like Death has come to visit you, but has not yet come to claim
you as his. Your eyes speak of fear that he will return.

And I am afraid too. Afraid of the languid look of lost strength in your eyes.
I am afraid of your bony hands, a pale pin-cushion for needles and IV's.
I hold on to you, because you are all the strength I have left inside me.
I hold on, because I am afraid to let you go when you are so calm.

The fight fades from your eyes too fast. The last bit of light fading before
the sun rises. And you are gone far from me before I even have so much
as a moment to say goodbye. Standing in an empty hospital room, your
clothes folded neatly on a too big bed. The smell still clings to me.