Just Right...

[Moto]

As Shane Koyczan would say... "The failing use of my right hand, is not actually the failing use of my right hand." I forget to make love to myself due to the fact my hand is cramped from writing, or typing.

 

Here's a little diddy I wrote, that I don't want to go overlooked like almost all of my other work that I refuse to share... Enjoy.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just Right

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

These flashing lights amongst the pale spring night, I am wondering when everything ceased to be just right.

 

There was an accident, a profoundly tragic incident. The victims involved were you and I. Now they're just waiting to see if we die with entrails around thighs... Looking at each other like lovers do for the first time, as if enjoying one final glass of wine; not remembering that stop sign... I mouth the words I love you.

 

Luckily for us this might not be where our story ends, but the beginning of amends.

 

As I lay there on my deathbed wishing for just one more chance, to tell you of romance. I’m brought into a trance.

 

Back to the day I first looked upon your skin, your lips so fine and thin, wearing a suitable smile showing off their symmetry and revealing no denial. Your body language talking to me as if I was an Egyptian praising the red sea for the bountiful fish, I knew you were quite a dish... A real sexy plate of alfredo, daring me to say no.

 

As I take my first glimpse of those eyes... The eyes that must have been equivalent to Shakespeare’s own Juliet’s, not glancing at me quite yet. No, not Juliet, I am looking upon divinity’s creation. What does she possibly see in me? When you finally looked my way, I did anything but stray. Those emerald beams now and forever will haunt each dream… Never in my life would I imagine blue and green so aligned, fixated on sharing a love divine, not just waiting in line for a chance to shine.

 

You brushed your hair to the left, framing your face ever so picturesque; a portrait that would fixate a gaze through any haze, beyond metaphor or compare. Your hair defined the lines I would follow which would defy any stop sign, a curvaceous frame which already had well deserved fame, yet completely tame. I knew I was meant to be with this dame.

 

You continued smiling my way, as if you were a child at play in the silky Alberta hay... You finally found the courage to speak; tightening this ship’s sail’s on a voyage that this boy wished was never ending. I will never forget this first word, like the first touch in foreplay... You said, “Hey”, as I walk over with a coy grin, an obvious ploy begins.

 

Just then reverie escapes me, brought back to this reality. Surrounded by white, perhaps a light? I already knew something wasn’t quite right, was it still that night?

 

I hear voices in the distance, and struggle to open my eyes for an instant. Surrounded by white, * * * * is it bright… I caught glimpse of the tiles far better suited to a bargain bin, with their power to erase smiles. As much as I wished for dissonance within this never ending consonance, I knew where I was. A place I knew where I would long to see your face, as much as I probably looked completely in disgrace… I was in the hospital.

 

I couldn’t get you off of my mind, I attempted to shift and felt a grind. I scream in agony without the slightest hope of propriety. I hear rapid footsteps, and the sound of keys clashing… Thinking, “Probably the nurses dropping their purses”, I somehow grinned, although it felt thinned.

 

“Are you awake, sir?” I groan, “Yes”, in recognition. I somehow knew I should have never inserted the key into the ignition… The injuries I sustained were being described, as I lay in distant disdain, looking at my own blood stain. I interrupt abruptly, “Where is my pearl, the girl?” I ask; a question that should have never escaped my lips.

 

The news of your passing is forever relapsing. My body now mended, my heart forever torn asunder… I plunder into the depths of demise, misery apparent in my eyes.

 

I refuse to believe this is where our story ends, unable to make amends. The fight that night… This is when everything ceased to be just right.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

- Jason Strauss

 

I'd make a terrible author, I can only write things I personally like when I'm under the weather... Misery loves art, as I always say; or company.

[tiredofvampires]

You know something is good when at the end, it all starts to come together and then you want to go back to the beginning to savor it again, with the realization.

 

Moments of brilliance in here, Moto. I like your style, how you make prosey poetry...

 

And why do you refuse to share more? I hope you rethink that, I'd really like to see more of your stuff.

 

Is this piece fictional??

 

Once again, it's good to see you, my friend.

[tiredofvampires]

P.S. Been there with the cramping issue. heh. A sucky choice to have to make, indeed.

[Moto]

Well, it's a combination of truth and fiction. The car crash is a metaphor, although I was in an accident right before I wrote this, and the rest is truth with a gentle slope.

 

I write "Slam Poetry" so it's really all about the delivery during the performance. Open Mic nights are my friend.

 

Thanks ToV I may share more! Sorry for the bad response here. I forgot I posted this, and I have like a minute until I have to shower and make some food for our guests this evening. Hope you're doing well.