It Stirs…

Eyes like summer when it turns autumn
I feel the warmth when you stare at me
Something about that smile entrances me
It stirs every nerve…

I feel your breath on my neck
I feel your lips on my skin
When you’re absent, it urges.
It stirs every cell…

Eyes search every space
Just to lay eyes on you excites me
So much to say but I stay mute
It stirs every emotion…

I suppress and attempt to forget
You guard and invest elsewhere
We always end up back in unison
It stirs up you and me…

Fleeting thoughts

I don’t know why I’m always remembering my time in high school. All the places we used to hang out at. The people I talked to or hung out with. All the stupid jokes and shit we used to say all the time. Its been boggling me. I think about my then boyfriend and his friends. All the things they used to laugh about or yell out in public. All the car rides. All the times he was on his knees outside on the side of my house. I cant help but smile. Chuckles escape my lips as I drive down the road to my destinations. Clammy hands. Long curly black hair.

My poor mother. I was such a drama queen. Always yelling and crying. Rebellious little bitch I was. I loved it. Lie lie lie to get where I want to see who I wanted to see. I’m sure she wanted to choke me out all the time. We never got along. We constantly fought over the dumbest shit. Hormonal, emotional, lovesick teenager I was.

Times were so simple then. Funny how I thought it was so hard and complicated. And it was so good. And so much fun. So careless I wish I could be that careless again.

I will touch on this more.

My last words

Instantaneously, there she laid her head on the busted window. Murky blood was dripping down the left side of her head. Everything around her was silent. Her slender fingers trembled along the edges of her iPhone. She was positive someone already called 911 but she knew there was another call she needed to make, especially if she thought she was going to die here in the middle of the intersection. It had been years since she’d spoken to him but there was more she craved to say. With all the strength she had left in her hands, she touched the address book icon on the cracked screen. In her peripheral vision, she saw a young white teenager with panicked eyes speaking to her. If only she could read lips. Bloody fingerprints covered the splintered glass on the phone. Phone to her ear,
“What do you want?”
As soon as the words were spoken, sounds of screaming people and car horns came crashing down around her. Tears flew from her eyes. In a few deep breaths she composed herself to say,
“I miss you; I only wanted to be with you once again. I wish you never met her so that way I could work just a little to get you back. We’re only friends in my dreams but I want to make those dreams into a reality. I just thought you should know how bad I still love you before I died on this pavement.”
Sirens in the background echoed as each tear burned the cuts on her cheek. Now he was shouting, “Where are you?! What’s wrong?! Where can I find you?!” Her vision was growing dark now. As everything faded away, she only hoped once it came back that she would see him. That was her dying wish.

The Questions

A blinding orange light covered my eyelids. Argh it hurts! I’m not ready to wake up yet…fuck. What time is it? What day is it?! I sure as hell don’t want to open my eyes for the fear I won’t recognize my surroundings. Pleeeeeease let me be in my room. 1…2…3! Aaah…yes, yes I am. I stare at my yellow wall but it hurts so I blink a few times. It has to be Saturday; no one interrupted my sleep with nonsense. That also meant that no one was here. Even better! So…how did I get here is my next question…no wait I haven’t even answered the first. Slowly, my watch comes into view. 3:26 in the afternoon. My wrist hits the bed with a loud thud that echoes through the springs in my mattress. Sigh, I swear it’s the same thing every Saturday “morning”. The sun reflecting off my walls, the color searing through my eyelids to wake me at a random time in the afternoon as I try to jog my memory of the night before and then reading text messages from whoever was with me the previous night with ghastly stories of my drunken state. Why do we young’ns drink? Let’s see…the weapon of choice had to be wine because the usual grinding in my brain is not present. That’s what so great about it. So if I had wine that meant I was at my bestie’s house with a few other people. We only bring the heavy liquor if we’re going to please the masses. Wine was always good for the circle. Now who in the world could’ve brought me home & gladly stripped me down only to my Vicki Secret Pink panties? A boy…THE BOY! Mmm, good ol’ Cyrus yes…it had to be. PHONE! Where is my phone?! I am awake, alert, using both lethargic arms to search the bed for my stupid Palm Pixie, hoping it wasn’t damaged. Poor Pixie read to me 10 new messages. The first, of course, from Cyrus.

“yo left early had some shit to do around the house im sure youre not startled to find only your sexy ass panties attached to your hips lol call you later”

Ahahahaaaaa! Yesss what a great way to start the day! No…no wait…take that back…if we had sex, I couldn’t even remember!! What fun is that?! Shit. Just have to wait for the phone call. Next text from: the bestie.

“ummmm idk what happened btwn you & cyrus but…ummmm i hope it was PG rated (though i doubt it…) call me when you READ this”

Uh oh…sounds like I possibly could be in trouble with this lady. Dialing: BESTIE.
“Well good morning sunshine.” She chimes.
I grumble, “What up.” She knows I’m not a…er…“morning” person.
“Glad to hear your voice after last night I didn’t think you would even make it out of the door let alone make it to your bed.”
“Hardy har har trick I always make it back to my bed. One way or the other.”
“Mmmhmm…” she doesn’t believe me. “So Cyrus huh?”
“I couldn’t even tell you right now cuz I don’t remember.” I rub my stomach as it roars at me. When was the last time I ate?
“I’m sure something happened. What do you have on?”
“Pan-ties! What do you have on?” I tried my best 800 phone line voice. She chuckled,
“Clothes you whore. I woke up and got myself in order before anyone came home like a proper lady.”
“Psh! If you were so proper you wouldn’t be getting drunk and getting laid athankyou. Besides I hope you aren’t COMPLAINING cuz from all the MOANING I heard it sounded pretty raunch up in there.”
“Oh you know he always lays it down RIGHT!” She shouts in a deep baritone voice. That was the manliest voice I have ever heard come from a chick. Ev-er. She has me in hysterics.
“Yeah thanks for that pick me up,” my stomach hurts from laughing, “Yo ass is retarded.”
She laughs, “Goodbye I will talk to you when you arrive here for another bit of weekend chaos.” Call ended.

No use in reading the other 8 messages; they’re probably from the night before. I won’t get my reminders of last night until a later date. Now, now what to do…what to do next. I feel like the answer: “laying here” is the best but I can’t for I have to wash the smell of weed, cigarettes and Cyrus off of me so I can regain all those scents again in about 7 hours. Damn I love being a young adult! My black polished toes jump from the feeling of ice cold hardwood floor but scurry to the bathroom to start the shower as if I’m streaking across the front yard. Why is it freakishly cold in this house? My toes dance on the tile floor waiting for the water to get hot enough to jump in. The water falls onto my skin like a warm blanket. It comforts me while it washes away the imperfections of a rendezvous I wish I could remember. I’m starting to believe nothing happened anyways. I couldn’t have been that drunk I mean seriously I have never induced myself that hard into an alcoholic daze where I couldn’t remember the night before. My mom did piss me off pretty bad before I left. Oh the woes of living at home. I couldn’t stand college so I figured, I’d like to go home now and I did. It was my mom’s goal to get me into college but of course I wasn’t feelin it. I felt like I didn’t have to to become a writer. 3 years of college down the drain…just like the grime comin off my body. Boy did that make her incredibly proud. Ever since then, we have had such a horrible relationship. Ah well…she’ll get over it one day…after all of that I decided to take my poetry career a lot more seriously.

My aspirations to become a poet have dimmed along with the spotlight I used to live in 4 months ago. Booked every Thursday and Friday night at a club, spilling my feelings to every seat where eager ears sit empathizing with this chick they have no clue about. I also was a few steps away from publishing my poems but suddenly, I lost my passion, decided to put everything on a momentarily hold to gather myself. Yeah too bad it lasted up until now. I have a meeting with my editor next week. I’m just tired of being scared. I face up towards the shower head. That’s right wash that fear away…On to better thoughts. I wonder if Cyrus has called yet. Oh Cyrus, the muse to my confessions on stage. My intense infatuation with him in high school helped establish most of the content for my book. Of course, in high school, I was the girl who went unnoticed. The chick who sat in the back of the class, who never answered when called on, wore ridiculous outfits and couldn’t make friends. They couldn’t classify me which I loved. I was never in a box. It wasn’t until my heavy failure at school that he noticed me. I was in the backroom at my bestie’s house, smokin some crazy good weed, with 2 of our other chick friends, cuttin up when he arrived with 3 of his dude friends. They wanted to get in on our bud.
“I suppose.” says the bestie and I smacked her! What gave them the right to come in & get on this?! I coughed up the cash for it. “Yo chill out. Dudes’ hot.” She cuts her eyes at me. I cut them right back, hoping she could read, “QUIT BEIN A SKANK!” Didn’t matter anyways my high was gonna last so I was through.
“Weren’t you in my Calculus class junior year?” Cyrus passed the blunt onto his dude friend. “Gaaah…you sat in the left back corner…always lookin at the clouds while soakin up the sun. You had that leather bound journal you scribbled in A LOT!”
Wha?! This fool studied me! I sat there with my jaw dangling while my bestie glanced at me in shock.
“I wasn’t ‘scribbling’! I was writing.” About you!
“Oh! What’d you write?”
“Poetry.”
“About?”
“Something I could never obtain…” until now…but I couldn’t handle talking to him longer than a minute so I got up and left. Cloud 9 turned into like cloud 199.
After that, he was at every weekly gathering of the tribe, recalling every moment he would study me in my corner while we got high & tipsy off the 10 dollar vodka from the nearby liquor store. He would melt my heart with every reoccurrence. My limbs shook as I realized the water was becoming lukewarm. My 10 minute shower turned into an hour due to my reminiscing. Geez what time could it be now? I’m sure the folks are home, ready to give me angst. Also I’m sure my phone has been going off like crazy. Knock knock at my bathroom door. It was my mother INSISTING I quit wasting water. Yeah, yeah I’m getting out please exit stage left woman. And sure enough, she was gone when I walked into my bedroom to get dressed. Palm Pixie read 2 missed calls and 2 new messages. Ignore missed calls. Inbox. Bestie.

“change of plans ‘rentals trippin about havin fiesta at mi casa party moved to that pub downtown you know the one im on my way to your casa please be clothed PLEASE”

Such a grouchy pants! I should stay in my towel just to spite her. Next message. CYRUS!

“called no answer im sure you heard about the changes tonight usual crew at the pub downtown you know the one see you then we gotta talk”

Pout. Talk about what? Maybe he can inform me about what happened when we got back to my room. Could something have gone wrong? Maybe everything was a mistake? Crud…this cannot be good for the home team. Arg! I collapse onto my bed. More angst. I have never wanted someone or something so bad. I feel like I wanted him more than I wanted my career as a poet to take off. There is something so wrong with that! How can something so benign like love make me want to push my dreams to the backburner?! It’s only because now the idea of him is obtainable. 4 months ago, before I quit going to class, I couldn’t even fathom the thought of being with him. He meant very little to me like matching the colors on my dunks with my clothes. He meant nothing like the classes I was taking because they weren’t motivating me to follow my dream. It took him 4 months to be a major interference in my life. So now I ask, why am I going to let him change my life?
“UUUGH! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO PUT ON CLOTHES!” Krys stood at my bedroom door, eyes covered. “Can’t you obey orders?!”
“Sorry Krys. I was thinking and made a huge personal discovery.”
“Oh yeah…what’s that?” my bed creaks as she sits.
I sit up and say, “Cyrus is holding me back.”
Krys stared at me with “duh” written across her forehead. “Honey, it took you 4 months to realize that.”
“I know! It’s stupid! He says he wants to talk so hopefully everything will be clear I still don’t know what happened last night.”
“And if he doesn’t tell you what happened?”
I sigh, “Sometimes you gotta ask the questions…”
The pub was our last resort for our get-togethers. It always smelled like piss and plenty of elderly dudes were there to hit on us young girls. Of course there was a private room but the scent of urine was the strongest there. If we were desperate enough, we would burn candles and incense to cover the stench. Tonight was definitely one of those nights we were desperate. I sat by the bar, kickin back shots of Jack, same thoughts circling around. What happened last night? Did we have sex? Was it even good let alone worth it? Shot. Is he worth it? How was I to hold onto him and my future? Could I even have both? Shot.
“Kyndle.”
There he was, his cologne falling upon my neck, the sweet aroma embracing me. Mmm…it excites me. He sat on the stool next to me with a grin, putting his hand out for a shot. I slide one over to him with a smile. He can’t handle Jack and he knows this but he downs it like a trooper. His tongue traces away the last of the Jack off his lips. I bite my own in anticipation. My hormones are going to lead me down the wrong path. Focus man focus! You are here to get the answers. You gotta find out what happened last night and if nothing happened, you should get it out of your system tonight. I have had enough courage juice. Do it.
“Yo Cyrus. What do we have to talk about?” A maddening throbbing was in my neck.
He takes another shot. “God that’s strong! Whew! Anyways, last night…man last night you were tossed! Getting you in your bed was a struggle but once you got there…” And there was a wink. My body tingled in excitement. So we did! Ugh still don’t remember…
“But what happened exactly because…I really don’t…remember…” Another shot of Jack appeared before me. Down the hatch.
“You begged and pleaded for me to stay so I did but once we got in the bed together, it became different. Not in a bad way though. We got to touchin and rubbin…you know we were feelin it…but I thought you were too drunk for us to do anything so all we did was make out. Then you fell asleep in my arms.” He closes with a shrug.
“So that’s it?” I was expecting sooo much more than that! I thought it would’ve been some wild, out of control, lustful event but it was only second base?!
“No…I watched you sleep. Then all of these emotions came over me as you slept I felt like I was the luckiest dude in the world! I was in your bed, holding you, taking care of you I mean no one has ever been there with you. That’s when I realized…I’m in love with you.”
The record just scratched! He is in what now?! With who now? How could this come to be I mean we never had the chance to become this way we only partied together and hooked up every once in a while we never exchanged feelings this is insane and I’m confused and baffled this boy that I was so crazy about 3 years ago just told me he was in love with me and I only looked at him recently as a lay why couldn’t we just have sex and let it be now things are so much more complicated than they were!! He left me speechless. The rest of the night was yet again another blur.
I hadn’t talked to Cyrus since that night at the pub. I was too distraught by what he said and besides, I figured instead of putting my dream on hold that it was just best to put my desire on hold instead. My meeting with my publisher came and went and it was time for another gathering of the tribe. Usually I would be getting ready for another drunken night but instead, I was shuffling around backstage, coaching away my stage fright. Different faces were in the crowd tonight; my usuals gave up on me. The tribe was over at the bestie’s. It was like starting all over again. I was working on my breathing exercises when a familiar fragrance filled the air. A grin stretched over my cheeks. God he just had to come make me even more anxious. I didn’t even have to turn to look at him to know the expression on his face, what he was holding in his hands and know how he was feeling. I figured it’d be a pleasant surprise. I bit my lower lip to hold back the largest kool aid and chuckle but I also was holding back more than that.
“Damn Kyn…it looks just like your journal in high school.” He cracked. Yeah it was like that. “Why’d you dedicate it to me?” The splash of his tear hitting the leather bound book could be heard for miles…
I chuckle, “What do you mean? Who do you think I was writing about all of those years? Who do you think the subject is throughout all those pages of verses?”
Of course it was you. My muse. My entity. I couldn’t express my feelings for you with my voice so I wrote down what moved through me. No one could move me like you do. Now I have to leave you. Now I have to go on tour, telling my story of a boy who stole my heart and didn’t even know it. Tell the others that you can still fall in love with the perfect stranger. I do remember something from that drunken night. Right before I passed out, the sensation of his index finger tracing my lips sent earthquake vibrations through my heart. I thought it was because of all the booze that I was imagining the things I would want him to do. It wasn’t until he confessed that I knew it was real. That’s how I made my decision.
“So do you want me to autograph—” I turned to find him gone, his scent still in my nostrils. I take it in one last time.
“Kyndle it’s time.” My publisher calls me out of my trance. Spotlight on. Stage is set. I feel him flow through my soul as the crowd applauds.