Options pushes and Pulls

It’s the same door

Isn’t it the same door

Let me look

Same handle

Ok different wood

But it’s practically identical

Why would I be called somewhere

So similar to the last one

I know we shouldn’t compare doors

But they’re like the same

Look, look at that different door over there

It’s like mine

The cracks are filled in with gold glitter

The handle warn

And there’s even a peep hole

So why would I go thru a door that’s just like the last?

-Saschia

I am Aphrodite, Farewell

The art flows free when I’m with Ares

We tripped over the skulls of our enemies

Sat on the piles of their riches stacked to the sky

And I know, I don’t need Ares, or revenge, or riches to make art

And I know he takes away my focus.

Aphrodite is

a healthier option

The wiser choice

But Aries was the adventure I had missed

The only kind that crawls right under my thick skin

He made me dance

Inside and out

He shut me down and lit me up

He’s not safe

not in the slightest

Our dark minds wielded blood splatter

And chaos

The only way I could justify us was art

We were so art

You should have seen us

-Saschia

It Was Good

First thing today, is to figure out how he will love her. He loves her, that isn’t the question. But how would he show her? Yesterday, it was with a small note, I love you handwritten on it that hid underneath her tea cup. A teacup he picked out for her and filled with black tea he steeped the way she likes it. But, today was a new day and another chance to figure out how to love her. He walked to the kitchen and leaned against the counter to think. He looked around at the bills scattered in front of the Keurig and the pile of discarded recyclables by the trash. He takes a deep breath and fear overwhelms his thoughts. That feeling of not being good enough weighs him down. But she needs his love and so he pushes through it. I’ll find something in the living room. Toys surround the perimeter of the room. The plastic, colorful, and imaginative toys lighten his mood. But, his fears whisper the word tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow it will be easier he agrees. And sits in the rocking chair his wife nurses in. It’s an awkward chair, not his first choice, but it was for her. There’s no use in waiting a voice from inside says. He reaches into his pocket for a small notebook he carries around with him at work and goes to his disheveled desk for a pen hidden by months worth of mail to be organized. He walks back to sit in the awkward chair and taps his chin. Eyes shut tight, he writes I love you because you exist and I love that. Those words are embarrassing to him, but he knows she needs to hear it. So he tears the paper from his small notebook and stands up to leave it on her seat. He walks away and turns to look at the note. I should rewrite it. He takes a step. No, no she will like it. It’s good enough.  

Stitched Together

From time to time I think of you

From minute to minute you cross my mind

From hour to hour I’m lost in our fantasies

If I stopped I might lose you

So I leave myself little reminders

Moons and doors

and stars as big as your eyes

The truth is I don’t need reminders

But they bring me closer to you

-Sasch