All of Her: Prologue (Final Edit)

Prologue: He doesn't Love You.

"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. I think I might be sick.

His words are echoing in my head. I am stuck on repeat. All I can hear is that awful sentence and my heart, drumming erratically against my rib-cage. I've gone mad. I'm standing here, on my own two hands, going crazy. I'm shaking.

I know he is telling the truth. I don't even have to look at them to know its the truth. Being a glutton for punishment, and already drunk with pain, I look anyway. 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 be so completely clueless? Looking at it now, I can easily imagine them. Entangled, wrapped 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 feel so pathetic. I try to smile, as if everything is okay, but it wobbles with the weight of 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 need to get drunk. Is it normal for my chest to hurt this badly? Its like I've been punched. My whole body aches, like I have the flu. Its all just so ridiculous. This isn't fair. None of this is fair! Of course it isn't, but I can see that it doesn't matter what is and is not fair.

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

The gall. The absolute gall.

"Am I 'alright'?" I ask, turning back toward him and shrugging off his hand. "Yes, David. I'm absolutely fucking peachy. Its not like 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. No, I'm not 'alright!' I feel like I'm going crazy right now! I've never been better."

Dumbfounded, he just blinks at me.

"I... I am 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 think I might vomit. I'm going to scream, or laugh hysterically. It is, in a sick and twisted way, quite comical.

She is looking back at us again. Her face is slightly cloudy, concern warring with the sunshine of love. I want to slap the sunlight off her cheeks.

"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 want to yell at him, grab him by the shoulders and shake him. I wish I could smack some sense into them both. Or perform a relationship saving lobotomy. Well, relationship saving for me, not so much for them. There they go; their shadows seeming to swim off into the sunset, like a couple of mer-people to Atlantis. Or maybe that's my broken-hearted imagination.

I turn to leave, again, but I can't seem to make my feet move. Instead, idiot that I am, 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 more than a little raw. Its like my wounds just got a vigourous scrub.

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'm just standing here. Caught up in my foolish daydreams. If only I had super powers or something, I could destroy Alice and live happily ever after. With David. Like I'm supposed to. If she were my ugly step-sister, she'd cut off her nose to spite her face and I'd win him back with perfectly fitted glass slippers and my obvious charm. He would realize he is the only Prince Charming there has ever been for me and all will be right with the world.

I'm 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. This isn't running away.

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

All of Her: Chapter Thirteen

Jahan sneaks away from her father's house many times a week to stay the night with me. Her brother lends her his car, not knowing that she is using it to carry on a homosexual affair with me. An affair that revolves around her rebellious love for sex, alcohol, pork and shellfish. An affair that involves the complete removal of her burqa and niqab. An affair that causes me more and more guilt with each passing day.

We never go out in public where she could be seen. Though she admits that only her mother has seen her without the burqa and niqab since she turned thirteen. We carry on in secret, falling deeper and deeper into a pit that I don't think we can escape. Her drunken revelries and sexual exploits are all that matter to her in the abyss.

"You know I would never be able to do anything if I married." She says, out of the blue, as we are eating dinner.

"Why is that?" I ask, nonchalantly munching on my food. I already know the answer. This is a conversation we have had several times already. With each variation my guilt punches me in the stomach harder and harder.

"The more I talk to him, his name is Alec, have I told you that? Anyway, the more I talk to him, the more I realize how deeply in love with the Quran and Allah he is. I would never be seen in public, except completely covered. I would be nothing but a child bearer to him. A sexless sex toy. I wonder if I would even be allowed to continue to read?"

"Maybe he isn't half as bad as you think he is." I say. She looks shocked that I should defend this faceless evil named Alec.

"Maybe you should marry him then." She says, in a snarky tone. "How would you enjoy being used like a doll for his wants and desires?"

"I wouldn't like that, but you don't know if that is the way he is. You told me once that the Quran encouraged respect of women and that your mother chose to be covered so that she would remain pure and set apart for Allah. If that is true, and he loves the Quran and Allah so much, maybe he will respect you as you ought to be respected. Maybe he would not demand that you be covered. Maybe he would actually try to please you sexually. You don't know him well enough to judge him."

"And you don't know him well enough to defend him." She sets her fork down, a little forcefully. I wince at the sound. This is the first time I've tried to argue with her. Normally I would just let her rant and then let her seduce me. Normally I would pretend for a moment that I am in love with her and that we can hide this forever.

"Well, you are always speaking so cruelly about him. I can't help but feel sorry for him. From what you've told me it seems that he is trying to be kind."

"I don't understand why you would want to defend him at all! You do know that my parents are trying to force me to marry this man? That would be the end of us, the end of my life as I know it now."

I keep quiet, though I want to continue to argue. I don't want to argue, really. I just want her to see some other point of view. I take another bite of my food, signalling an end to the discussion. She doesn't seem to think it is over, however.

"I know that you are not like me, Abra. I know that you still hold warm thoughts and memories for men. I can see it sometimes. But you don't know men like I do. You don't understand them like I do. You haven't had to live with them like I have."

Again, I do not respond. I let her rant. After she is done, she puts back on her coverings and doesn't even bother to kiss me goodbye. She leaves, slamming the door. I clear away the dishes and clean up. I feed Snuggles and wonder how I will ever get out of this mess without hurting her. I suppose there isn't a way, unless she decides to leave me.

It is a week before she comes over again. I find that I have missed her intensely as soon as I see her through the peephole. She doesn't bother with hello or how have you been? She pulls off her veil and kisses me. I have taught her too well and she takes me on the floor of the entryway.

We don't say a word the entire evening. We eat a simple meal and I let her do as she pleases. Every now and then I will look up and see her gray eyes staring at me intently. She looks at me, looks through me. I feel as though she can see the guilt building inside of me. She says nothing, though.

She leaves quietly, while I am in the bathroom preparing for bed. When I come out she is gone and I am alone with my cat.

The next night she comes over again. This time we carry on a lively conversation on poetry and she lets me read some of what she has written. I blush to see that she has written poems dedicated to me.

"Can I keep some of these?" I ask, holding one particular poem to my heart.

"I will have to make copies first, but yes you can." She smiles and kisses me.

She stops as she prepares to leave for the evening.

"I've been thinking that we should run away together. Find a place where we could get married and live happily ever after, like in a fairy tale. Wouldn't that be lovely?" She looks at me, her eyes sparkling.

My blood runs cold and my heart comes to a screeching halt. I blink, once, twice.

"You can't be serious." I say. "Think of everything you would be leaving behind. Besides that where would we run? What would we do?"

"No, I'm not serious." She laughs. "I had you going for a moment though, didn't I? I would love to run, though. Free of my burqa, my religion, my demanding parents. It would be nice, though, don't you think?" She laughs again and finishes putting on her niqab. She kisses me and leaves before I can say anything else.

"I can't continue doing this," I tell myself. I feel as though I have stuck my head in the lion's mouth and the only way to get it out is to have it bitten off.

I go out to get groceries and run into David. He has let his hair grow out a little and he looks as handsome as ever. He tries to talk to me and, at first, I ignore him. I grab my items and go through the line as quickly as possible, but he follows me.

"Come on, Abe, talk to me. Can't we at least try to act like civilized adults?"

I turn a venomous gaze on him, making him go silent for a few moments. However, he proves more persistent than I thought he would be. He follows me to my car and after I have put my groceries in it he grabs me by the arms and pushes me against the car.

"I just want to talk, Abra." He says.

"It doesn't feel like you 'just want to talk', David. Let me go." I try to shake free, but it doesn't work.

"Not until you agree to talk to me. Please." I nod, unwillingly, and rub my arms after he lets me go.

"What do you want to talk about?" I ask.

"Anything. How have you been? What are you doing now? Did you get that job at the accounting firm?"

"I'm fine, no thanks to you. I am getting groceries, as you can see. And yes, I got the job. May I go now?"

"Why are you acting like this? All I am doing is trying to be friendly." He throws his hands in the air in frustration. When he does that I notice a glint of silver on his finger.

"You are married now?" I say, stunned. It doesn't feel like it has been nearly long enough for him and Alice to have married.

"Yeah, we eloped to Vegas a few weeks ago." He has the decency to look a little ashamed. He runs his fingers through his hair and then looks at his ring.

"Then we have even less to say to one another. I hope you and Alice are happy together." I try to open my car door, but he closes it again. When I turn around he kisses me. I try to pull away, but find myself melting into it instead. His hands move down to my hips and he presses against me. I feel like I am on fire, even as I try to smother the flames.

"I miss you." he whispers, his forehead resting against mine. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you too." I say, even as I try not to. He kisses me again and all I can think about is his body and mine intwined. I hate this. I hate him. I want him so much. I have been burning for him since the night of Sophie's homecoming dance. I have been trying to substitute his touch with another's, but I can't replace him. I can't forget him. I can't forgive him. And, God help me, I am still in love with him.

He takes my keys, locks my car doors and pulls me into his car. We don't drive very far, just down to a secluded part of a near-by park. His kisses get more urgent and I find myself completely pliant. He pulls down my pants and lets his hands wander where they will. Without thinking I begin to undo his belt buckle and unbutton his pants in a move that looks practiced. We are in the back seat then and he is inside me. I suppress the tears that I know are about to break lose as I give in to what I have been wanting. What he has been wanting.

When he is done, he allows me to finish. Always the selfish lover. I put my clothes back on. I feel disgusting. I feel used. I feel like the doll that Jahan mentioned. I feel so guilty. Because he's married now, because I am with a beautiful woman who loves me, because I never really wanted this. I am so ashamed of my behavior that I don't wait for him to drive me back to my car. Without a word, I get out and walk. He trails me in his car.

"Get in the car, Abra. What are you doing?"

"I can't David. Just leave me alone. You've had what you want, now just let me go." I keep walking, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Please, Abe, just get in the car. Tell me what's wrong."

I stop and look at him. He brakes, throwing it in park. He comes over to me, tries to take my hand.

"What's wrong? David, we just had sex, in your car. In a park no less! And you ask me what's wrong?"

"We've had sex in my car many times, why is that such a big deal?"

"Because we were together then! You weren't married to someone else! You weren't just using me, at least I didn't think so at the time. She may be able to sleep with you when you are with someone else, but I can't. Not without a heavy conscience. Not without regretting every moment as it is happening."

He looks at me, bewildered. How dare he play dumb right now?

"What's wrong with you?" I scream, hitting him in the arm. "You love Alice, so you cheat on her with me? You love me so you cheat on me with her? Why did you even propose if you loved her so goddamn much? What the hell is wrong with you? I hate you! I hate you!"

He raises his arms to defend himself and I hit him until I can't hit anymore. I hit until I am more bruised and broken than he is.

"I did love you. I still do." he says, lamely. "I love her too. She's the one who told me to stay with you. The one who encouraged me to propose. Then, at the last minute she said she couldn't stand to watch us get married. That she loved me too much to let me go."

"Excuses, excuses, David. If you truly loved me, you wouldn't have left me waiting in the church rectory. You would've been a man and told me the truth. All this time and you still can't tell me the whole truth."

"Fine, you want the truth? The truth is I've always been in love with Alice. She is my first love. She gave herself to me and I gave myself to her. Yes, I lied when I said that you were my first. I was only with you because you were so damn pathetic. I felt sorry for you. You loved me so much and I guess I just wanted to make you happy. Alice even encouraged this, because you were her friend. But it went further than either of us thought it would and when it came time to follow through with the promises I made to you I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I couldn't because I loved Alice and I have never truly 'loved' you."

I stand there in shock. My heart has stopped and there is a roaring in my ears. My stomach is in knots and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I pull away from him, tears streaming down my face and I walk back to my car. He doesn't follow now. He lets me go.

I get to my car just before my stomach hits my mouth. I sob as I throw up. I sob until I am completely limp. I can't even drive myself home. I pull my cell out of my pocket and call Noah. He gets there a lot faster than I thought he could. He loads my groceries into his car before helping me in and taking me home. I am quiet all the way home, though Noah asks over and over what is wrong. I can't bring myself to tell him.

He helps me inside and I collapse on the couch. I feel like a wilted flower in a raging desert. He tries to coax me out of my silence with ice cream and alcohol. He tries everything he can to get me to talk, but I just can't. I can't.

Finally he gives up and just holds me. I don't resist. I let him hold me, I let him smooth my hair and kiss my forehead. I let him ramble soothingly for I don't know how long. As the day drags into night he begins to try, again, to get me to talk. He fixes me something to eat, but I can't eat it.

He carries me into my room, as I have lost all the will to move, and helps me change into pajamas. He then tucks me into bed and lies down next to me. He hums a lullaby, while he holds me. I begin to cry again and he lets me. I don't know how long it takes, but eventually we fall asleep. My face swollen from crying and his shirt soaked from my tears.

I wake up with a sore throat from all my screaming, crying and vomiting. I can barely talk above a whisper. Noah is still asleep, his arms wrapped around me, protectively. I feel like crying again, but discover I have no more tears to cry at the moment.

I try to move without waking Noah up, but when I begin to stir so does he. He snaps into full awareness when he sees my puffy face and still tear-bright eyes.

"Are you able to tell me what's wrong now, hon?"

"Maybe once I've had a drink." I croak. "My throat hurts."

"I can imagine from all the crying you did. Of course, I can only account for the crying you did in my presence. God only knows how long you were crying before you called me."

"It felt like forever." I whisper. We go into the kitchen where Noah makes me cup of warm tea.

"What happened, Abe?"

"I ran into David at the grocery." I say, taking another sip of tea.

"Just running into him was enough to make you this catatonic?"

"No. I didn't just run into him. Noah, David and Alice got married. In Vegas, apparently." I wait a moment, trying to gain some courage for the next part.

"I'm not surprised. Since they have been doing this for who knows how long, it is only to be expected that they would get married rather quickly."

"That's not it, though Noah. I had sex with David. In his car. And he is married to Alice. I had sex with him and I'm in a relationship with a beautiful, and rebellious, young woman. And the only reason he was ever with me was because I was so pathetic he felt sorry for me. I'm still so pathetic, Noah." I burst into tears and lean against his shoulder.

He has no words for what I have done. I have no words for it either. I feel so disgusting. I need a shower. I need something to scrub this out of me. I need something to make me forget.

I pull away from Noah. He has even teared up a little and I feel even more guilt.

"Go home, dear. I need a shower. And Jahan may be coming over tonight. I couldn't stand for you to be here when I tell her."

"Are you sure? I can stay however long you need me."

"I can't ask that of you. Besides, there are some things I have to do on my own. You can't always be here to pick up the pieces."

Reluctantly, he leaves me. Once he is gone, fresh sorrow comes. I manage to drag myself into the shower, but only half-heartedly clean myself. I can't summon the strength to do anything. Instead, I slide down to the floor of the tub and hug my knees to my chest while I cry some more.

Eventually I pull myself together enough to get out of the, now cold, water. I dress slowly in jean shorts and a Minnie Mouse t-shirt. I slip on my fuzzy Kermit slippers and pour myself another cup of tea. I try to eat something, but can't bring myself to. I feed the cat instead.

Around eight, there is a knock on the door. I know it is Jahan, but I still peek through the peephole. I open the door slowly as she comes in. She takes one look at me and stops unwinding her veil.

"What's happened?" she says, her hands coming up to caress my swollen face.

"Don't worry about it." I say, brushing her hands away. She seems to make the sincere attempt and finishes undressing. Though she is standing before me naked, I do not feel any stirring. I feel no lust or desire. My only thought is to get her a pair of my jeans and a t-shirt.

"What is wrong? You don't even want to have sex with me?" She takes the jeans and shirt, ruefully. She seems hurt by my behaviour.

"This sexual and religious rebellion can't last forever, you know."

"Where is this coming from? What happened today?"

"We can't continue like this." I say, trying to make her see, make her understand. "Eventually you have to face who and what you are."

"It can last as long as we want it to!" She exclaims. I have never seen her angry. I have seen her in a passionate fury, but never angry. Not like this. It is coupled with fear, I can see it in her eyes. She is afraid for me, of me. She grabs me and tries to kiss me. I shove her away, but she tries again. And, again, I shove her away.

"Why don't you want me, Abra?"

"I don't want our relationship to be like this!" I finally say. I feel so defeated. Since she first told me that she wanted me I have fucked this up. At this point, there is no way she is walking away unscathed.

"You don't want us to be about sex? Fine. It doesn't have to be. I love you for more than the sexual pleasure you give me."

"No, I don't want us to continue hiding everything. It can't last forever, Jahan. One day it has to stop being rebellion."

"How do you want it to be then? Do you want me to out myself to my family? Give up everything to be with you? I will do that. Do you want me to spit in the face of everything I've known? Fine, I will do that. Is that what you mean? Do you want me to burn my burqa and shred my niqab? Consider it done. It will no longer be rebellion. It will be my choice. Will that make you happy?"

"No. I don't want you to do any of that for me. Or anyone else. If you choose to reveal yourself let it be for your sake alone. Not mine."

"I gave myself to you. Told you I loved you."

"I know." The guilt is overwhelming. Not just for the loss of her innocence, but for everything.

"I want to be your lover."

"But I can't be what you want, Jahan."

She looks confused and hurt. She looks furious and so in love. I  imagine I looked the same way when David abandoned me at the altar. I imagine I looked that way yesterday when he told me the truth.

"Can't we try?"

"No."

"Why not?" she demands.

"Because I have been unfaithful. And I always will be unfaithful to you. No matter how I wish I wasn't."

"What are you talking about? Unfaithful how?"

"I am still in love with my ex. I had sex with him. I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this. I swear, I wanted an easy parting."

"You had sex with your ex." She is in the same state of shock I was. She slowly takes off my clothes and begins to put on her own.

"I did." I say. I want her to hate me. At this point I deserve no less. I hate myself even more.

"I should go." She says. She sounds like a zombie, winding her niqab. I grasp her shoulders so that those tear bright eyes are looking into my own.

"I do care about you, I do. Please understand."

"So that's why you've never said 'I love you' to me. You don't love me. You've been using me. You saw me as a doll to be played with. I thought you were different. I thought you loved me. I hate you!" She tears out of my grasp and flies toward the door.

"No, I never meant to use anyone!" I follow her. This isn't what I wanted, but it is what I deserve.

"But you did. And now, I hope you are happy. I hope you are happy with a man who doesn't love you and only uses you for your body. I hope that you regret this moment for the rest of your life." With that she leaves, slamming the door behind her. Out of my life forever.

The next day there is a piece of paper slipped under my door notifying me of Jahan's intentions to marry Alec. Have I ruined her life? Could she ever love Alec? Or will she be a slave as she predicted?

I have felt nothing but guilt throughout this relationship. I used a beautiful girl, without meaning to. Cheated on her. Broke her heart. Corrupted her. Drove her to enslave herself to a man she doesn't love for a religion she no longer believes in.

All for what? For a man who never actually loved me, who only used me. All because I couldn't fall in love with her. I feel as though I have destroyed a stained glass window. Or a rare rose garden. I can't forgive myself.

Tonight, I need to get drunk.

You Don't Know Me (But I Want You To)

You don't know me, you can't.
I won't let you in the door far enough to see.
I've tried, let you in as far as I could,
I'm crying, cause I can't open it further.
I want you to see, to know, to feel
what I do, what I know, what I see.
But I can't.

You don't know me, you can't.
I have been so cruelly used, I can't be
hurt anymore. I'll die. Can you try
to understand? Try to accept me, accept
this? I know I shouldn't ask you to, but
I can't let you in.
I can't.

You don't know me, you can't.
You can't see behind the walls built
behind these eyes. You don't know
the dreams, or the tears, or the sighs.
You can't know these things, I won't
let you in, but I want to.
But I can't.

And I'm so broken, to shattered to
let you see. To alone to ask for
company. And they say that Misery
loves company, she must truly
love me, for I have been her friend,
her confidante. I want to let you inside!
I can't.

Please don't ask me to trust you.
They all say trust me, then destroy me.
And I love you, love you so much
more than you can see. I'm to tired,
to hurt, to frozen. You don't know me,
you can't. I won't let you in.
I can't.

Don't hold me, don't say you love me,
it only makes it harder. Its easier
to say goodbye if you don't try.
And even though loving you is all I'll
ever do, I can't let you in, the door
is blocked. I want to.
But I can't.

I want to let you go. Forget you.
But I can't stop thinking how you will
never know me for who I am.
Because these walls, they protect
and they defend, and they hide who I
am inside. Please come inside,
But You can't.

Auschwitz: Feb. 17th, 2008

I have stood, within these prison walls.
People are crying and dying, screaming
and throwing up all around me. I am
clinging to what little bread I have. Praying
to God that the soldiers don't come back.

The tattoo on my wrist is my new name.
the numbers burn me, burning my skin.
It is so cold, so cold that I can't feel my feet.
Huddled in the corner of this terrible place,
I'm so scared.

They call this place Auschwitz, a prisoner
camp. I don't understand, why these
soldiers could hate me so much. What
have I done? This star on my shoulder,
it is more like a scar.

The gas fills the air, it is filling my lungs
like a cloud of white smoke. And I stand
here and I take it all in. I am afraid, and
so cold. Every moment is agony, but soon
it will all be over.

They call this place Auschwitz, my
final resting place. Killed by one man's
hate. I stand, filling with the gas, thrown
into a massive grave, person upon person,
tears upon tears.

What A Fool I was

What a fool I was to trust my heart. What a stupid fool.
How could I have let myself believe in something not true,
I have longed, scratched and clawed, trying to find it,
but Love is a butterfly to soon dead upon the ground.

I believed in the words my heart had whispered, my mind
giving in to the sweetest of lies. I have lied to myself, thinking
I could actually fly. And all I've done is fall to the earth, the
wings ripped from my spine, my body crushed by the fall.

And though there always comes that moment when you have
to fall to survive it, I no longer hope. No longer feel. This skin
is cold, this heart will never heal. I am empty and forsaken,
betrayed by myself.

The whole while playing the game of truth and falsehood, waiting
on this tightrope, only to stumble and drown because of my
heart. Cease to beat, you wicked thing. Let me be, you sower of
lies. Why must I break myself down, torture and fight with myself?

So no more. I will not listen. My heart does not understand truth,
it seems to not understand anything at all. I wish it did.
I wish I could believe what I had hoped was truth, but how can
I when surrounded by all the evidence?

To T.A.B.

  No, I didn't want to marry him. I just loved him with so much of me that nothing is left to give anyone else. I love him more than I can explain, but I hate what he's become. And I knew that we would never be together. I feel sad because I lost him and I don't even know why I lost him.
  And I keep trying to convince myself that I don't love him and that I'm okay, that I'm fine and that I've moved on. But the truth is hidden inside that I still love him. And I didn't want to let him go, and I should've said something to him. Should've told him the truth behind the tears that continuously fill my eyes.
  That I love him and he took to much of me. I will never be whole, even though I know it will never be. I just want him to know that I still care. I love him and I'll always care. I want you to know that I love you and that I want  you back. Its not meant to be, but I've spoken my truth.

The Hands

  The hands reach up to the bloody moon,
her wicked smile stretched wide across the sky.
  The hands hold up the bridge,
built of bones and deserted bodies.
  The hands cry out, trying to grasp
something worth the touching.
  The hands reach up to the bloody moon,
murdered by her own sins.

Ghosts

  The dying embers of a fading sun
glow in the tangible reality of life. A serene
look at death's oncoming darkness.
Surround and taunt the starving
souls.
  Crimson stains the glowing sky, the
silver moon drenched with the blood of
a murdered sun. Colliding shadows trip
over silent stones. A blanket of frigid
ice cloaks the quiet deaths.
  Ebony silence, bright cold capture
innocence in a web. Tears of a broken
star caress the emptiness. I stand
alone, no one sees as I wander
through the peaceful cemetery.
  My feet leave no marks as I
tread through snow. A wearied
traveler has not far to go. I slowly
sink into my bed, resting amongst
the other dead.
  Crimson stains the glowing sky, the
silver moon drenched with the blood of
a murdered sun. Colliding shadows trip
over silent stones. A blanket of frigid
ice cloaks the quiet deaths.
  The dying embers of a fading sun
glow in the tangible reality of life. A serene
look at death's oncoming darkness.
Surround and taunt the starving
souls.

Broken Rivers

My tears flow like the river.
They fill a muddy bank and dwell
    within its murky boundaries.
My soul has become the forgotten
    turns of the river.

Broken rivers, hear my cry.
You follow the shattered bones
    of my people as we move down
    to the depths of crushed dreams.
My heart has become a bloody tie
    to a forgotten people.

Endless, clear water rise to
    greet the weary feet of a
    weary nation.
My downtrodden spirit weeps
    at the touch of your cool
    waters.

My soul has become the forgotten
    turns of a broken river.

Hollowed Out Feb. 01st 2008

  Hollowed out, merely a shell.
Broken down for years, surviving
in Hell.
  The past is clearer in a dead
man's eyes, colorful and ever
present in a burning sky.
  Silhouette of the soul, nude
and splintered by time. Dying a
slow death inside.
  Crisp are the dying leaves of
Autumn. Sweet are the cries of
desolation they leave behind.
  Set ablaze this moment, don't
recall it to mind. Forget all the love,
forget all the pain, forget even time.
  Hollowed out, merely a shell.
Broken down for years, surviving
in this Hell.