deepundergroundpoetry.com

A letter to my lover.

           
                
Dearest, V.                
                 
                 
We've both lived to see another day.                  
                 
When it'll stop..                
                 
I just don't know.                  
                 
Perhaps, it will be a brighter day, darling.                
                 
Yesterday, I had a bad case of the "mean reds” I'm afraid.              
                 
It's a slippery slope into the emptiness, my dear.                
                 
I pull my trench coat tighter over my shoulders..                
                 
..hurry down the alleyway and turn a sharp corner.                
                 
A puddle splashes behind me.                  
                 
Is there a man lurking in the shadows?                
                 
The overhead sign for the HILTON hotel flashes a bright neon red.                
                 
Clouds loom in the distance.                
                 
A violent flash of lightening.              
                 
Thick, fat dollops begin to wet  my face.                
                 
I decide to check into a suite for the evening.                
                 
I stand in the lobby chatting pleasantries with the concierge.                 
                 
"We'll send the bellhop to bring your luggage up, if necessary, ma'am."                
                 
"Thank you. That won't be necessary."                
                 
"Would you be requiring anything else ma'am?"                
                 
"Is the kitchen still open? I'd love to have a bottle of chilled wine sent up."                
                 
"Room service is 24 hours ma'am. The beverage menu is on the reading desk in your room."                
                 
"Thank you, darling, you've been ever so helpful."                
                 
I head upstairs in the elevator.                  
                 
I have arrived.                  
                 
The room is cold.                
                 
Pitch black.                
                 
The whir of the heater hums softy.                
                 
The floor is an shiny, ink marble tiling.                  
                 
My heels click beneath me.                
                 
I switch on the light.                
                 
There is a pretty bouquet of bright orange amaryllis..                
                 
that sits elegantly on the glass mantel.                  
                 
The bed itself has a swan shaped towel arrangement..                
                 
and a mint.                
                 
Heavy, plush purple curtains stuffed into gold roped hold-backs..                
                 
line the large windows.                
                 
The rain gently throbs against it's panes.                  
                 
The room is completely still.                
                 
..except for the sound of my breathing.                
                 
I walk into the bathroom.                  
                 
The crystal, clear orbs decorate the vanity.                
                 
The bulbs omit a soft flicker once turned on.                
                 
I rotate the knobs right and then left..                
                 
fiddling with the water pressure.                
                 
I empty the contents of the lavender bubble bath into the tub.                
                 
The scent of floral fill my nostrils..                
                 
..and I sigh, calmly.                
                 
It feels soothing in here.                
                 
..like a small haven of temporary reprieve..                
                 
from the trials of tomorrow.                
                 
The  silver stained gillespie contains a basket of potpourri in the corner.                
                 
I strip off my clothing piece by piece.                
                 
Gently..                
                 
.. I fold  my lace undergarments and dress on top of the towel rack.                
                 
I stare at my reflection completely naked in  the mirror.                
                 
I am beautiful..                
                 
..or so they say.                
                 
I dip my rose colored polished toe over the ledge..                
                 
and swirl..                
                 
..the bubbles around with my foot.                
                 
There is a knock on the door..                
                 
..disturbing me from my thoughts.                
                 
Hastily..                
                 
I tie on the thick, cotton rob hanging from the wooden hanger in the hall closet..                
                 
..around my waist.                
                 
The door swings open and there he stands before me.                
                 
The waiter.                
                 
He puts the wine in a polished, silver bucket by the television stand.                
                 
I take a couple purple notes from my wallet..                
                 
..and tip him handsomely.                  
                 
His smile is wide..                
                 
..exposing his large two gaped front teeth.                  
                 
His eyes are a hazelnut brown.                  
                 
They seem genuine..enough.          
                 
He thanks me and lingers for a moment..                
                 
..before wheeling his cart away.                
          
Does he wonder why I'm spending the night drinking alone?               
                 
Would he like to join me?                
                 
I turn the latch until it clicks shut.                
                 
Once again, the only sound..                
                 
..is my steadfast breathing.                
                 
In and out.                
                 
The quiet becomes unnerving.                  
                 
I turn on Spotify.                
                 
Cat Stevens whispers:                
          
"I listen to the wind..to the wind of my soul.."          
                 
I carry the wine back into the bathroom.                
                 
The words trail behind me.                
                 
"Will I end up where I think..only God really knows."                
                 
I shrug off my robe.                
                 
I forgo the glasses by the sink and sip from bottle head.                  
                 
I pour the ice directly into the bath.                
                 
The bucket clangs on the hard  floor.                
                 
The loud, thunderous  sound sets off an eerie echo.                
                 
The ice pellets slosh to the bottom of the tub..                
                 
..sending trickles of  hot steam into the air.                
                 
Everything is perfect.                
                 
In this fragment of time.                
                 
I switch over to the playlist I want to hear.                
                 
Led Zeppelin croons out of the speakers:                
           
"I was her love.. she was my Queen..and now a thousand years between."             
                 
I lay down in the water, craning the bottle between my thighs.                
                 
Absorbing the silky words.                
                 
Taking them all the way in.                
                 
Filling my soul..                
                 
..with something or other.                
                 
Is it joy?                
                 
"Tangerine..tangerine..living reflection of a dream."                
                 
I swig back large gulps of wine.                
                 
The frayed ends of the peel- and-stick lilac wallpaper..                
                 
are all I can focus my eyes on.                
                 
The lines taunt me.                
                 
My phone vibrates.                  
                 
I ignore it.                
                 
Joni Mitchell's voice floats into the midst above.                
                 
Casting her light from the ceiling..                
                 
like a beacon shining down on me.                
                 
"I'm selfish and I'm sad..now I've gone and lost the best baby I've ever had."                
                 
I reach out for my purse on the toilet lid.                
                 
Two little blue pills ought to do it.                
                 
I twist off the cap and dump them out..                
                 
into my sweaty palm.                
                 
Bubbles fly over the rim from my sudden jerk..                
                 
The water swishes  back and forth in waves.                  
                 
"Do not take more than one"  the pharmacist lectures me.                  
                 
My neck tilts back.                
                 
I swallow the leftover six.                
                 
Just to be safe.                
                 
"For unless they see the sky.. but they can't and that is why."                
                 
John Elton sings over his piano.                
                 
I can see him..  in a vision.                
                 
His eyes dancing behind his spectacles.                
                 
"They know not if it's dark outside or light."                
                 
There is a bitter taste..                
                 
that has lodged itself..                
                 
like a sticky ball of phlegm..          
         
into  the back of my throat.                
                 
I wait.                
                 
Patiently.                
                 
In a trance.                
                 
The walls begin to hiss and vibrate.                
                 
My heart hurts.                
                 
My arms fall flat and I cannot seem to raise them up again.                
                 
Cold sweats shake my bones somethin' fierce.                
                 
I cough.                
                 
I heave.                
                 
I spit into the warm water.                
                 
The chalkiness won't leave it's mark on my tongue.                
                 
Slowly yet surely..                
                 
the familiar darkness sweeps over.                
                 
My eyes fade into black.                
                 
Lifeless.                
                 
Then the voices begin to purr sweetly.                
                 
Coaxing me nearer.. deeper into the void.                
                 
"I'm not letting you go."                  
                 
Yours,                
                 
LostGirl                
                 
LostGirl18
Written by LostGirl18
Published | Edited 4th Oct 2019
Author's Note
The hours that bring us pain.. and the glimpses of joy in between.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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