deepundergroundpoetry.com
the girl with the piano key teeth
She had waited for this day for so long...it was finally here.
She was going to see the one man who had truly captured her heart, her mind, her soul...it had always been him..and yet it had never been him, for she could never possess him, never make him see inside her heart, past the wreckage she had made of her life. But the heart wouldn't listen to what the mind already knew...so she pushed on. 400 miles...200 miles....50 miles....2 miles....and there he was. Could he ever know how he appeared to her? This was everything she had ever wanted...and everything she could never hope to have. She pushed the nagging little hum of reality out of her head and drank him in, feverishly, greedily, without abandon. She gazed at the umber tone of his skin, the sinewy outline of his muscles, the deep penetrating orbs that peered both suspiciously and lovingly back at her....perhaps a little too long, but she couldn't look away, fearing he might disappear. Oh the smell of his skin, his hair....the pleasing musk she knew so well, even after all these years. The feel of him on top of her was almost more than she could bear, more than she had ever hoped, and all she had ever wanted. She could feel him holding back, sense the hesitation in his kisses, his embrace....but it was heaven nonetheless.
[b]The next morning she was afraid to open her eyes, afraid that she had just dreamed his presence as she so often did. But he was there, and she was with him, and for the moment that was all that mattered...all that had ever mattered to her really. The day was spent quietly...two lovers getting reacquainted, although they had always known each other, and they always would. She tries to remember every detail, every precious moment....it's as if she senses what is to come. He holds her hand, they walk in the rain through a thousand soldier's remains...and for the moment they are content with their reflection and solitude. They smell the heady perfume of the creamy white magnolia, they feel the cold dankness of the plantation cellar's stairs, they drive in silence smoking their cigarettes and pondering the impossibility of the castle on the hilltop. Not enough time, not enough time....there is NEVER enough FUCKING time.
Their tryst together almost over, they pick at room-service pizza and stay up late, trying to delay the inevitable....and then it is time to go. What a cruel joke fate has played on them....two souls alike in every way, but the lives they have led put more distance between them than their locations ever could. She is so distraught she gets sick on the way home, blaming it on bad shrimp...yet another lie.
Home again, home again...but how could it ever be home when he was not there with her? Back to her disappointing life, her uncertain future, suffering a keen ache for the one that is her heart. She decides to come clean....he has to still love her, she is the same person she was a week ago....but some truths are too much for one heart to bear, especially one as honorable as his. So he leaves, like they all do, her version of broken a bitter pill he can never swallow. She realizes she deserves nothing more, and probably a lot less...but her heart is sick. She can't sleep, she can't eat....crying, crying...the pills can't even numb this pain. She remembers the yellow flower he placed in her pocket, and how he risked broken bones to procure the spanish moss, how his voice sounded when he called her sweetheart, how he carried her on his back through the dewy October wetness....but most of all she remembers his goodness, his honor, his integrity, and how he made her want to be a better person. At first she cries for herself and what she has lost...but later she cries for him and how she has betrayed his heart. She wants to scream, she wants him to hear her, to believethat she isn't the same girl who did all those terrible things so long ago....to know that she will never forgive herself for what she has done to him, the most beautiful person she has ever known. A change occurs within her....instead of praying for God to bring him back she just prays for him and his happiness, a happiness that she could never give him...she didn't know how until it was too late. She wants to call him, would have called him before....but she remembers how he called her selfish...and she now sees the glaring truth. His voice to her is music, security, blissful reverie....but she knows her own only conjures up bitterness, hurt, betrayal....so she refrains.
The pain is too great and she is too weak....she always has been. She tried to change, to be the person he would let into his heart, but it is too late, and she has failed. Like so many times before, she takes the easy way out...it's all she has ever known. She turns the gun over in her trembling hands, watching the pewter gleam of the metal with her gypsy eyes. Peacepeacepeacepeace is all that matters now, she knows God will take care of him and all the rest. She places the cold barrel in her mouth, parting her perpetually rouged lips, and marvels at the odd taste of the metal on her tongue....all the while thinking "we will always have Nashville."
Silence.[/b]
She was going to see the one man who had truly captured her heart, her mind, her soul...it had always been him..and yet it had never been him, for she could never possess him, never make him see inside her heart, past the wreckage she had made of her life. But the heart wouldn't listen to what the mind already knew...so she pushed on. 400 miles...200 miles....50 miles....2 miles....and there he was. Could he ever know how he appeared to her? This was everything she had ever wanted...and everything she could never hope to have. She pushed the nagging little hum of reality out of her head and drank him in, feverishly, greedily, without abandon. She gazed at the umber tone of his skin, the sinewy outline of his muscles, the deep penetrating orbs that peered both suspiciously and lovingly back at her....perhaps a little too long, but she couldn't look away, fearing he might disappear. Oh the smell of his skin, his hair....the pleasing musk she knew so well, even after all these years. The feel of him on top of her was almost more than she could bear, more than she had ever hoped, and all she had ever wanted. She could feel him holding back, sense the hesitation in his kisses, his embrace....but it was heaven nonetheless.
[b]The next morning she was afraid to open her eyes, afraid that she had just dreamed his presence as she so often did. But he was there, and she was with him, and for the moment that was all that mattered...all that had ever mattered to her really. The day was spent quietly...two lovers getting reacquainted, although they had always known each other, and they always would. She tries to remember every detail, every precious moment....it's as if she senses what is to come. He holds her hand, they walk in the rain through a thousand soldier's remains...and for the moment they are content with their reflection and solitude. They smell the heady perfume of the creamy white magnolia, they feel the cold dankness of the plantation cellar's stairs, they drive in silence smoking their cigarettes and pondering the impossibility of the castle on the hilltop. Not enough time, not enough time....there is NEVER enough FUCKING time.
Their tryst together almost over, they pick at room-service pizza and stay up late, trying to delay the inevitable....and then it is time to go. What a cruel joke fate has played on them....two souls alike in every way, but the lives they have led put more distance between them than their locations ever could. She is so distraught she gets sick on the way home, blaming it on bad shrimp...yet another lie.
Home again, home again...but how could it ever be home when he was not there with her? Back to her disappointing life, her uncertain future, suffering a keen ache for the one that is her heart. She decides to come clean....he has to still love her, she is the same person she was a week ago....but some truths are too much for one heart to bear, especially one as honorable as his. So he leaves, like they all do, her version of broken a bitter pill he can never swallow. She realizes she deserves nothing more, and probably a lot less...but her heart is sick. She can't sleep, she can't eat....crying, crying...the pills can't even numb this pain. She remembers the yellow flower he placed in her pocket, and how he risked broken bones to procure the spanish moss, how his voice sounded when he called her sweetheart, how he carried her on his back through the dewy October wetness....but most of all she remembers his goodness, his honor, his integrity, and how he made her want to be a better person. At first she cries for herself and what she has lost...but later she cries for him and how she has betrayed his heart. She wants to scream, she wants him to hear her, to believethat she isn't the same girl who did all those terrible things so long ago....to know that she will never forgive herself for what she has done to him, the most beautiful person she has ever known. A change occurs within her....instead of praying for God to bring him back she just prays for him and his happiness, a happiness that she could never give him...she didn't know how until it was too late. She wants to call him, would have called him before....but she remembers how he called her selfish...and she now sees the glaring truth. His voice to her is music, security, blissful reverie....but she knows her own only conjures up bitterness, hurt, betrayal....so she refrains.
The pain is too great and she is too weak....she always has been. She tried to change, to be the person he would let into his heart, but it is too late, and she has failed. Like so many times before, she takes the easy way out...it's all she has ever known. She turns the gun over in her trembling hands, watching the pewter gleam of the metal with her gypsy eyes. Peacepeacepeacepeace is all that matters now, she knows God will take care of him and all the rest. She places the cold barrel in her mouth, parting her perpetually rouged lips, and marvels at the odd taste of the metal on her tongue....all the while thinking "we will always have Nashville."
Silence.[/b]
Published 24th Nov 2010
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24th Nov 2010 7:36pm
This work is just mesmerizing. I noticed on your profile that you were a bit critical of yourself and your writing, but I have to tell you that I love this piece. It drips with sensuality and desire and love and ultimately betrayal and disappointment. As I read, I felt like it took forever to end and when it finally did I didn't want it to. I thought, how lucky to be loved by someone like her even if in the end she will hurt you. Thanks for the excellent read.
24th Nov 2010 7:48pm
