I’ve never wanted an angel. I’ve got too much blood on my hands, too much baggage weighing me down from such a lofty aspiration. Stains don’t come out of my hands anymore, the callouses are too thick, too course to ever wash clean. My palms slide against one another, rough, course, unworthy of an angel.
Unworthy of perfection, even if were to want it.
The lines at the corner of my eyes are deeper, the gray hair at my temples, more pronounced. I find my head resting in my hands more and more as I try to draw myself out - force myself to make connections that are difficult for me to do.
Trust. It’s always, always, been an issue, but someone most recently, candidly, exposed the raw nerve of it all. I don’t trust anyone, not him, not any of my friends, not my family. It’s ironic for someone who feels almost like a raw nerve most of the time, that not one of them can pick up how much I care, because, at some point, I perfected, finally, the poker face I prayed for as a child.
Careful what you ask for.
It’s funny, as much as I hurt for you, and because of you, that you don’t know it. It’s funny that you’ll read this with my voice, it’s level tone, and still see the poker face reciting it to you.
I ask myself, how can I love someone and not trust them? It isn’t possible.
I’ll tell you what I said…
…the greatest deception that the devil ever pulled, was convincing the world he didn’t exist.
Didn’t exist? *quizzical* Heh. I’d say it’s that he convinced the world he didn’t care, no?
But I suppose it depends on the devil to which one refers: that one — or the one within.
Comment by Beth — September 4, 2008 @ 1:01 am
A million things come to mind, D. A million.
None of them would make a difference.
Maybe you never wanted an angel. But, perhaps, you need one.
elise
Comment by MangledTulip — September 4, 2008 @ 7:57 am
That is the way of the world–loving, not trusting.
Love and trust are just that. Two distinct entities that may not always bed together peacefully.
There are all sorts of angels-sweet, light, hidden, quiet, bright, dark…pick an angel, any angel and hide her in the cloud. (Not looking) Then, I will pull her out of the cloud. Ready?
Comment by Princess — September 6, 2008 @ 1:59 am
Whoa! (said with a cocked head and a glazed look in my eyes). Thinking - Dynamite comes in small packages.
Please allow me the indulgence…
Oddly enough, this post became a trigger for me, also.
As silly as it sounds, all that i can pull through my mind, at this moment, is that very poignant scene from the film, 300 - you know, the one where the lady says to her King, “Come back with your shield, or on it.”
What rings most profound is what the narrator has to say…(Therein lies the message, for those willing to excavate.) THAT message is the true testament to the meaning of ‘Honor, Sacrifice and Love.’
We ‘mind fuck’ ourselves by not believing in what can’t be seen, or understood. Just because we don’t believe, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, or isn’t real. And it is powerful.
The question IS: If you could fly, or be invisible, which would you choose?
It’s Always, Always about TRUST (not a well-insulated trigger for me either, Dae)…because honesty and trust are two sides of the same coin; they go hand in hand.
To extend your hand, to try again, through the pollution that others leave behind…is always a risk.
But, there is always a trace of the ones before, unfortunately.
You don’t have to hit me over the head (batting cages anyone?)…
Ah, those predictable fucking circles…(said with a sidereal glance, and mayhaps a bit of skewed vision).
Now, i gracefully bow back into whatever fog pulled me into this epiphany…
…and go lay in my field of paper flowers.
Careful what you ask for.
Thanks for the ‘vent’ session.
Comment by gd — September 9, 2008 @ 6:36 am