Standing on the platform waiting for the train, dressed in baggy blue jeans black Doc's and my tight Harley top.
My walkman is blasting Ani D as my pink fringe hangs around my face.
I believe i could close my eyes and escape! Opening them i discover the subway, I grab my bag and head up out onto the busy streets.
Can this be real?
I ask around to find out where I am, pretending i am a tourist, while busy office workers rush past me in their suits and briefcases in hand.
I am here.
I pull out my scrapbook and turn to the page where i taped the picture, smiling, "Am I nuts?"
I walk back into the subway and head to the phone booth; grab a doggy-eared telephone directory in search of a name and town.
I scribble down the street and phone number and ask directions: "Only an 1.5 hour train ride plus a short walk" replies the man.
I thank him then jump on the train with other commuters heading i don't know where.
The butterflies in my tummy try to flutter out as my heart skips a couple of beats.
I get up and jump off and start walking in what i think is the right direction.
It seems ages until i reach the address that i've scribbled down, yet i dare not ring the bell...it looks like no one is home anyhow.
I sit on the curb and collect my thoughts, pulling out the scrapbook one more time, not that i need to as the face is etched in my mind.
I barely notice the shadow leaning over me until I look up and see the same face as the one i hold in my hands.
"Surprised to see you here!"
The hot stream of water covered her cold white body, trying to wash the hurt and pain from her skin. Big heavy tears kept on rolling down her freckled cheeks as her eyes showed innocence and sadness. She stood there, rocking slowly, arms folded close to her as if she were trying to keep everything from gushing out. She looked so frail; body drained of the laughter and happiness that once lived there, eyes tired and begging for love. In that small space she was warm and free, to cry and let the pain flow out, she didn't want to step into the cold harsh reality. I stood watching her, knowing that she needed a soft touch and a motherly embrace, a shoulder to cry on to lull her to sleep. I wanted to put my arms around her, to hold her body so she could let everything go. This was only the beginning of the punishment she had to endure. She looked around as if searching for someone, but no one was there. Everyone was too busy or out having fun, they wouldn't miss her. Although the warm water soothed her aching heart and body she knew she couldn't let anyone know of her pain. She turned off the water and wrapped the towel around herself. The tears began again, and the heaviness within her returned. She felt lost and scared and dizzy. Her stomach clenched, hungry for some comfort, but she didn't give in to its cries and
left it to churn on itself. She seeked an ear to listen to her which in the end produced more tears and emptiness. She only wanted someone to listen to her, but she got abuseand more worries. I sat there looking at this poor girl tormenting herself, feeling hopeless and angry. I should be the one to hold her and kiss away those tears, yet I can't. I fight for her every day, pushing her on in life to keep on going. Today she crumbled a little; she curled up on the couch and fell asleep. I sat there watching her, her body relaxing as her world slipped out from her conscious. She is so beautiful when she sleeps, like a child, her eyes flutter with dreams and the joy that she had lost a long time ago. When she sits there in her room alone, tears blotting her clothes, I can see that she wants to
be taken away and put to rest. Her life seems a blur again, like when she fell into darkness a couple of years back. She begs me to come, to caress her face and sooth her to a quiet sleep. Her nights have now been filled with nightmares and restlessness, unable to rest and thus tired and strained. I watch her as she pulls the knife across her skin, creating little streaks of blood and anger. But those lines that show her hurt are masked by the cotton and wool that covers her and the smile that others see. She's my baby, she doesn't know that I care and love her, but I do. I make sure that she is never alone, even when she feels it, and hold her hand down the path of life. Every now and then I think she seems me, but she doesn't see my smiles and so her eyes remain
tender. She's made a difficult choice and that takes strength, she knows what others may think; yet they don't know her like I do. It saddens me even more to see the ones I thought were there weren't in truth. I see her disillusionment, when she is at home alone, tears jerking her whole body draining her life away. I am selfish in wanting her to be with me and leave everyone behind, but I look up to her when she has that strength to continue. Maybe one day she will join me and I will be able to share my love with her. I will be able to show her that I am there and was always, even through her loneliest and darkest times. You are my love and I promise to never let you go, angel.
I am looking for that girl who could be anywhere even on the other side of the world, who might sometimes sit and think the same thing too. One day we will see each other or meet; most likely walk right by each other... lost in the feeling of loneliness. I could have all ready smiled at her, or called her a bitch for merging without a blinker and almost causing an accident...makes ya think. She could be anyone in my everyday life but then I think I doubt it... cus I want to believe that she is in so deep of a search as I am. I might pass her tomorrow and just look, I know she's out there; I want to believe she is... We will understand each other or not at all... but dismiss it as being just something else she loves. We will laugh and cuddle and walk hand in hand to buy the groceries, and listen to each other... with ears that hear beyond pain, sarcasm... a bad day... or even a warm smile. Or even sit there in silence without awkwardness and understand when there is awkwardness that it is never personal... and help to smooth it out. To just look into her eyes and know that everything is going to be alright even when she's scared too, because she never would hurt you, and if she ever did on accident... she would go out of her way to make it feel better... and remember how not to do it again. She would see the tears and make it all better. When I had something bad going on in my life... she will listen... and help think of ideas to help... and never interrupt me to tell me her problems are worse, but I would help her with them too. She will be the one to give you a hug before you run off to work and welcome you back with open arms and make you tell her what's bothering you. She will hold you in bed and be the shoulder you nuzzle into because she would recognize if something were ever wrong. Our bodies will fit so perfectly you think you were made for one another, and wouldn't feel smothered by her if when she drapes her arms over you and snuggles into your back; her skin will smell musky and so familiar. Home would be anywhere you were both at. I could sit on her lap without being told I was too heavy, and know how many sugars I like in my tea. She's taste my tears when we kissed... and not mind the saltiness... she'd be kissing away pain. She would hold me until my body stopped shaking and would rock me to sleep softly stroking my hair and not complain if I woke her in the middle of the night because I needed someone to talk to. She would ring me up at work to tell me she loved me and I would write poems for her to let her know how I felt and she would keep them... hidden away... and read them every now and again. We will take walks in the park and talk and cuddle as if no one else was there. She would protect me... as much as I protect her... and not tell me I was silly when I thought someone was being mean even if they were our best friend. She would laugh at my jokes and see my funny side as well as my weird side and adore them both. She'd do things for me sometimes without asking... and not mind if I did... and I would write messages of how much I adored her. and appreciated it... and hide them so she will find them when I am not there. She'd make me smile, and make me cry, she'd make me feel safe; holding me between her arms and not want to let me go. Her eyes would be shining with love when I would ask if I could bathe her... and not feel in any way self-conscience...every part of her body would be know to me yet new every time yet she would understand when I didn't want to be touched... and not even ask why. She would know and understand and never think it was because of her, just because. She'd never get tired of me telling her I love her... and accept anything I saw in her, even if I liked a mole... she would think it cute... and blush slightly... every time I kissed it, never telling me she wasn't what I saw... because I would be the only one who saw her like I do. She would love my freckles and kiss my scars away. She'd defend me in a heartbeat and never think if I was write or wrong. She'd get up early just to see me... and she would love me for me because she sees past the outside... and loves my mind, and all of who I am...because it is who I am.
