The Other Side of Heaven

story-sea

I just saw the other side of heaven
I saw my life without you
I cried tears blood red and broken
choked on black cords of lies and truth
so tightly bound and woven

There was never a forever
no you and I together

Now see the other side of heaven
there is death sweeping over desert land
scraps of shredded hearts scattered
bone ashes melted into molten sand
shards of a deep love you shattered

There was never a forever
no you and I together

So this is the other side of heaven
sinking and drowning beneath the water
seeking rest between the dark folds
I'm ready to meet my maker

				-- A. Wright

Its Just A Sandal…

piano

She sat down on the piano bench, back straight and rigid. The heat in her face was increasing rapidly. She was torn between the need to scream her frustration and the usual drill – staying silent to keep the peace.

This all could’ve been avoided if he would stop playing so roughly with her. She looked at the broken sandal in her hand. They had been her favorite pair. She got up abruptly and walked into the kitchen. After taking one last look at the sandals she dropped them into the trashcan. Blinking back tears she returned to her seat at the piano. Leaning her back against it she stared out the window breathing deeply. She just need to calm down. She just need a moment.

He appeared in front of her, his face tense.

“I guess you’re mad I broke your sandal.” He asked, his tone accusatory.

She blinked for a second and then stared at him in disbelief. Was he serious? Was he actually confronting her as though she had offended him? Didn’t he have some nerve?

“What did you expect?” She snapped, “You broke my sandal. Am I allowed to be angry?”

“Yeah, you can be angry. I just won’t play with you anymore.”

She rolled her eyes. He noticed.

“What? I won’t.”

“That’s not the point. You broke my sandal and your mad at me because I’m upset. Like I’m the one in the wrong.”

“I’m not mad. I just said I’m not going to play with you anymore. So, you don’t have to worry about being upset.”

She wanted to smack him. Hard. She wanted to scream. She felt trapped. It was beginning to consume her. When would she be allowed to be angry without feeling guilty? When would he stop invalidating her right to express displeasure in him?  

” Ok, if I broke something of yours because I wasn’t being careful, you would be mad too. And you’d make sure to make me feel just how angry you were. And I’d have to take it.”

“It’s whatever. I won’t say anything. I’ll get you another pair.” His face was tense as he turned and left the room. He sat down in the living room and turned on the TV. She watched him in the reflection of the entertainment center glass. There was an angry scowl on his face. She watched as it slowly faded into an expression of sadness then back to angry.

She began to feel the familiar guilt begin to settle over her like a blanket. She should just let it go. He was after all only playing. A part of her was still angry and she was tired of always giving in to make him feel better.

She sighed. They had barely seen each other all week due to conflicting schedules.  There was no point in wasting the little bit of time they had left together. Frustrating as it was she would reach out to make peace. She moved into the living room and sat as close as possible to him. When he didn’t respond she wiggled even closer until she was practically underneath him. He turned to her with a smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, Babes.” She whispered hopefully. “I’m sorry I stressed you. I just really liked them. I’ll get another pair.”

“I’m sorry I broke them.” He put his arm around her. “It was an accident.”

“I know, its ok.” She laid her head on his shoulder. Just like that the blanket of guilt was removed. Only to be replaced by a blanket of uneasiness. Once again she had come to him and apologized first even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Had she not he would have been distant or ignored her all day. Sometimes she wondered if he did it on purpose.

At least for now they were at peace and she had learned to leave well enough alone. Besides, relationships were all about compromise and sacrifice…right?

Maybe He Does Know

I’m lying on my back in the king sized bed. I’ve traveled a few hours to visit him and at this moment I feel completely still. There is an odd sense of calm I get being with him. It is deep-set and addicting. It makes me want to stay in this spot forever.

He holds my hand and mindlessly massages it. He has no idea that I feel it over my entire body. I don’t move. I let the chills and tingles flow from my hand and stimulate my whole being. I enjoy the gentle rush until I can no longer stay still. I roll over on my side and snuggle close, placing my face in his neck. I like that spot. He immediately shifts so that he can comfortably hold me. I keep my eyes closed and breathe deeply; simultaneously taking in his scent and slowing my heart beat. He must never know what he does to me.

He is no longer holding my hand. Instead, he is using his fingertips to gently massage a line up my thigh and over my hip. Then his hand slides up my arm to my shoulder and he retraces his invisible path back down to my thigh.

How ironic is it that while he is watching an old 80’s movie he is effortlessly unraveling me. And I am trying my hardest to hold myself together. Because he must never know. I can never let him know what he does to me.

He taps me lightly indicating that he needs to move. I sit up and rearrange the pillows and lean against the headboard watching him. I’m pouting slightly. He smiles and asks if he is allowed to use the restroom. I laugh and gesture towards the bathroom door. He’s chuckling to himself and shaking his head as he walks into the bathroom.

I use this time to retreat into myself. The calm is beginning to break away. My false sense of security slipping. All the questions and secret fears are beginning resurface. What am I to you? How long will it be before it isn’t fun anymore and you are bored. Why do I let you use me this way? Why do I use you this way? When is the pain coming back?

He emerges from the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks over and reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me toward him. I willing fill the space between his legs and lean into him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and neck. He rests his head on my chest and releases a deep sigh. His eyes are closed. I don’t know what it means. I don’t know that it means anything. But the moment is quiet and I feel a strong pull on my heart. But he doesn’t know. He probably never will.

That ship had long since come and gone with neither of us on board.

I lean back and rest my hands on either side of his bearded face. Our eyes meet and we smile. I play with his beard still smiling. I am hiding the sudden butterflies that are threatening to escape from their well positioned and fiercely enforced cage. I will not set them free. Instead, I bring my lips down to his full ones and let myself drown in the familiar sensory overload that comes from our kisses. Because then I can’t feel those butterflies.

He wraps his arms around me tightly. Then tighter still and puts his face in my neck. We stay like this for some time. I can feel his heart beating hard and fast through his chest. He begins to nuzzle me. It brings a fit of giggles from me as I try to pull away from him but he has me trapped. Then he begins to tickle me. I hate that. But I can’t help but giggle more. Now I am laughing too hard to feel anything other than the enjoyment of a playful moment with my friend. Just the way it should be.

Maybe he does know.

 

 

Welcome <3

Welcome! I started this blog to create a platform where I can share my work with others. Everything here will be original and close to my heart. However, I welcome constructive criticism. Writing has always been a passion of mine and I’ve decided now is the perfect time in my life to start getting back into it! Enjoy!

— Aniyah Wright ❤