Sunday, June 15, 2014

Watching the Moon Fall

What happened to holding on to everything you want in this life and never letting go? 
What happened to the love?
People change so fast and before you know it, you're right there too.
I use to sing to the moon every night-- I haven't done that in ages. 
Feeling free was once all I craved. Now I don't remember how.

I hate looking back. Your stomach turns; Your heart burns.
But for what? So, you can be thankful for how it all turned out? 
Yes.

I once let a gypsy friend of mine read my palm. 
She was my favorite wild child.
I looked up to her talent and her willingness to be free. 
We sat down one drunken night. She washed her eyes over my soul. And I gave her my secrets.
She read my lines as if reading a heart breaking fairy tale. 
In that moment, I hated her. 
I hated she could see my truth.
Being scared, I remember telling myself, "you decide your fate, you decide". 
But you don't really.

A year later, I sit here today, a completely different person.
My fate had played a trick on me.
And maybe I liked it.

Where was my family?
No where to be found.
She warned me.

Where was my hope?
Beside me.
She spoke of this.

Where was my heart?
It found it's way home.
She promised it.

"The moon will guide you", she said.
"The trees will calm you", she said.
"The stars will hold you", she said.
She was right.

"You will always be a gypsy", she said.
"You will always have a heart of a wolf", she said.
"You will always cry to the moon", she said.
"You will always be able to free your soul", she said.
"You will always be dark and praise the dead", she said.

I hated her.
How could she promise these things?

Things have lined up just as she promised.

I often think back to that night... sitting in her little apartment, smoke filling the air, booze circling around us, cards placed in star formation-- there I was, red lipstick, black hair, grey lace dress, ripped black tights, pale skin glowing in the candle light; cigarette interlaced between my fingers, I felt sick.
"Your demons will always haunt you".
With that, I ran.
Making my way past the door, feeling the fresh night air wash over my face, I grabbed ahold of the stair railing as I climbed down the stairs. Stumbling down the last three, I fell to my knees. Feeling numb I picked myself up and continued running.
Running past the parking lot and finding myself along the black top road.
Looking each way, not knowing where I was going or where I would end up; something caught my eye.
It was a solid black cat laying on the sidewalk. I walked toward the feline expecting it to run at the sight of a human. But it didn't run. As I got closer I could she the cat was breathing very heavily.
I crawled onto my knees, scooping her up in my arms-- blood soaking my dress.
I sat there for a long moment, rocking her in my arms.
Her stomach appeared to be inside out; she had been torn open like a chew toy by some kind of animal.
I held her close, fearing her last breath would be the explosion of mine.
She looked up at me with the most breathtaking eyes-- like most black cats have.
I tried to still my body as yelps escaped my mouth, reaching my head to the night sky.
Tears blurred my vision as I looked back down at her.
She was dead.
I screamed. A scream I had never heard before.
I yelled, "Fuck you", Over and Over again.
With the black cat still in my arms, I carried her into the woods.
My tights catching every little branch.
My dress was covered in blood-- every inch of it.
My hands shaking as I watched blood find the lines in my hands. The same ones Kiki had just read from.
I placed the cat in her final resting spot-- the spot my soul danced around a fire on Thursday nights. Under the moon, under the stars, and under the trees.
Before I headed back to the main black top road, I took my blood stained dress off.
My bra clinched my breasts as I felt the night breeze touch my body.
I covered the cat with my dress.
After what felt like hours, I found the black top road again.
I stepped off the sidewalk and unto the road.
There I was.
No direction, no hope, full of fears.
I made my way down to the ground. I rested my head on the gritty road.
My bloody arms stretched out reaching for life.
I wanted to lay there all night.
I just wanted to feel closer to the earth.
I just wanted to feel.
It had been 48 days since I last spoke to God.
And I had nothing to say now.
The night was still.
My heart was still.

Looking back now, I have found my way home.
My heart is still. My mind is still. I am still.
Maybe she was right, maybe my the cards were right.
I have everything I want in life.
Maybe I have a few scars.
Maybe I don't.