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More (A Poem/Short Story)

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She kept the bouquets
Given in bloom
Before reverence was a ghost
Rancid lilies
On the bedside table
Patronizing her
With their shelf-life devotion

“Never again will I love,” she proclaimed
“Never again will I give,” she explained
“Never again will I chase the chaser”
“Stroke the ego”
“Be led by reins made from frays of detachment”

She told herself
Life was brilliant, easier
When she kept her heart guarded
Though at the point of sale
She didn’t buy
What she was pushing

Yet she existed without living
Thought without reasoning
Reached for tomorrow
Inside ancient history
Plagued by its confines
As the floor met the ceiling
And the walls closed in

She took to sand and sea
Cloud gazing in the dunes
Spongy beds beneath her spine
Bursts of freckles just a sun-kiss away
As she finally came to

Her fractured fairytale
Still pierced her mind
But its jabs were brief
And its frequency was fading

Oh, but she was slow
To usher in…him
A knight without the armor 
Bold and uninvited
Extracting her from that comfy corner
Of complacency

She took his attention
With a side of suspicion
Despite emotions upending
Without permission
Blending then curving
In all directions

Ah, but it felt too good

Too rare
Too risky
Too scary
Too much
Too fast
Too soon

She charted an escape
A path to resistance
Right there for the taking

She clung to it
Bathed in it
Slept in it
Woke to it
Gorged herself on it
And wore it
Like a second skin

But damn
If he wasn’t persistent
And beautiful
And so easy to adore

But surely
Her surrender
To that exquisite ache
Adhering to her frantic pulse
Was merely a prelude
To a greater pain to come?

No
Yes

Predictions were tangled
And often convoluted
So she took a leap of fate
For this joy was worth
Every maybe

When he showed her the stars
She was infinite
When he opened his arms
She fell home
When he pulled her close
Her body remembered
What she told it to forget
Its artful formation
Both courageous and kind

When he held out his heart
She slipped it on for size
Its perfect fit
Impossible to ignore

And when she let out her crazy
He took out his scars
And when she let down her hair
He caught all her fears
And when he kept coming back
She stopped asking why
And when he loved her
She loved him more

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: pixabay.com

 

 

For Me

soulmates

Write me
In bold-stroked Sharpie fashion
Cradle me
Like you do your leather-bound literature
Feed me
Your compliments judiciously
Bring me
Faith in longevity
Give me
As good as you get
Play me
From lullaby to lyrical bite
Make me
A song that will save your life
Render me
Willingly defenseless
Feel me
With every fiber of your middle age
Watch me
Teeter with my heart on the line
Know me
Beyond the smoke and mirrors
Accept me
For my tongue-stammer authenticity
Tell me
Soulmates don’t switch like the weather
Show me
It’s not all lip service
Brand me
‘Til separation would be as painful as a burn
Love me
Because I am yours and yours alone

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: flickr.com – Sam Hood, photographer
 

Recollection

pexels-pasture

I recall
The pain
Fluid
In its persistence
Stalking
My mobility
Diluting
My vitality
A humid shadow
Of looming
Consuming
Endurance
Oozing under footfalls
Permeating soles
Slogging north
‘Til all I could taste
Was grit
And disillusion
 
I recall 
The tears
Kept at bay
Out of sheer
Determination
To denounce
My cantankerous
Unravelling
Upholding
Proper posture
Beneath
The burden
Of knowing
Full
Wasn’t as heavy
As empty
 
I recall
Wondering
When my thoughts
Would suspend
Their cyclonic fumbling
Edging for something
Just out of reach
Rapt by
Their own dominion
Garbled notes
Echoing cruelly
Between my ears
Holding me
Hostage
Against the breath
Of their merciless wind
 
I recall
When the world
Finally stopped
Spinning
And I sank
To my knees
In grateful praise
Of greener pastures
Spread invitingly
Before my pleading eyes
Wheatgrass
Seductive
In its ebb and flow
Calling to me
Like slender fingers
Beckoning
And for the first time
In forever
I actually felt
Like dancing
 
I recall
My feet
Moving
Of their own accord
Surging me
Toward a goal
I never thought existed
That void
Filling in
And brimming over
Its face
Emerging
In shades
Of solace
The sun caught
In its lashes
A heart cupped
In its ample hands
 
I recall
How a single
Full-bodied smile
Erased a lifetime
Of hurt
My own
Reciprocal grin
A showcase
In creases
Of many lives lived
Etching vulnerable
Patterns
Across my skin
Charting dreams
And insecurities
Wants
And bare necessities
Unfathomable
That I could feel
Such joy
But still lay naked
My fears
 
I recall
Finding
A place to belong
Inside your soul
Somewhere to be
Unapologetically me
Where feeling
Didn’t make
Me weak
A space
That not only
Completed 
But wholed me
A home
In which to cultivate
Tomorrow
A gift of time
To open
With burgeoning hope
That something
So precious
Could last forever
 
I recall 
That the greatest
Love
I’ve known
Or ever will know
Still exists
Inside of me
Homage
To the rhythm
Of the music
We made
Its percussion
Ever present
Within my veins
Building to
Domeless crescendos
Their purpose
To expand 
Evolve
And to carry me on
 
I recall…
 
And I will never
Let you go

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: pexels.com – Kayla Corpron, photographer

 

 

Why?

Writing Tools

To dig deep.
To win and to lose.
To search for outlets.
To bleed raw.
To dance with my demons.
To face the trauma.
To explore what it means to experience life.
To agonize.
To intellectualize.
To explode into the fragments I hide.
To salt my wounds.
To taste the tears.
To fade my scars.
To feel everything as powerfully as I can.
To believe in my worth.
To forgive myself for weakness and misplaced trust.
To release the guilt that was never mine to carry.
To live with passion and unwavering faith.
To express with honesty, always…no matter how joyous or sad or ridiculous or maddening.
To recognize that the truth is often convoluted.
To demand more ingenuity.
To begin each day knowing there’s a chance to make it better.
To embrace all the moments, big and small.
To understand that no story is ever completely told.
To reunite with my first love every time I hold a pen.
 
This is why…I write.

Me1

S A Healey, a happily married mother of two, is and will forever remain, a lover of words and a sucker for romance. You can find out more about her novels and other works at http://www.sahealey.com

Elastic

HandReach

Dream
Until it leans
Sharper and insistent
Until it shimmers
Between the shreds of doubt
Until it thaws
And comes back to life 
Until it rips
Through your diaphragm
Until it tumbles
In and out of promise
Until it slams
One door and pries open another
Until the pain
Begins to rise again

Until you cry out
In despair
Until the spells of vertigo
Are almost too much
Until you run
Out of tries
Until you fall
Out of tears
Until you bleed
Out of cants
Until you fill
Up with cans
Until you escape
The finality of no
Until your reach
Is elastic
Until you grab 
What’s yours
And 
Hold 
The 
Fuck 
On

Me1

S A Healey, a happily married mother of two, is and will forever remain, a lover of words and a sucker for romance. You can find out more about her novels and other works at http://www.sahealey.com