space.

There are days when the void of you beats in my chest like a bullet bursting through my heart. There are spaces of remembrance that are so strong I still feel your hand eclipsed in mine. Love is a funny thing and in the absence of its wake, I drown in my obsession of our memories. I fashion myself to the context of which we bore our reality and I, like a goldfish, keep coming back to the same places, unleashing the power of our affection over and over and over again. I rid you of my flesh and then you return in moments that I least expect.  my tears fall on deaf recollections, alone and unmoving in their solitude and regretful of words spoken to love that only wanted to love in its own way. My missing you is a great sea of heavy waters, full of mislaid promises that have no place to go and I long for you in the deepest spaces I know.

Painting: Goya

heart.break

The cold is exhausting, preempting the spring that is long overdue. Your departure has torn holes in my insides, leaving a dilapidated soul to stand on her own, rendering her defenseless as it reconstructs in solitude taking refuge in fabricated delusions of happiness.  Your spirit has abandoned my world. Your love now hollow and empty, cold and unmoving.  The space you occupied has melted – down into the abyss of past lovers who no longer speak my name. My want for you is enormous, much like the shades of grey that lie beneath the soil in their desire to be green and fruitful in the aftermath of spring. Be still my breaking heart and rise above this sea – watch me as I take apart my sadness and lift myself to grace.

by: Angela Rachelle

photo: www.wallpapershd.com

2014

Hey blog,

Remember me? I've taken a few years off. from life. and writing. and everything in my brain, really. but i want to change that this year. i want to get back to the prose and the words and the passion and the confusion and joy of the heart. i want to remember and feel and twist and turn in places that are hard to be in. i want to touch the parts of me that are afraid to feel so that they don't have to be afraid anymore. i am ready to be open and alive. fully and contagiously. i don't know you'll morph into for me, but i know i feel the hunger of this lost creativity jiving in my bones, ready to pounce on its next meal. i pray for insight and laughter, tears, joy, birth, death and everything in between. i pray for bright memories, lost love to be found and kisses to turn my insides upside down.

I'm ready for you 2014.

transfixed.

you burned me in the light with my eyes wide open.  you told me lies fettered with the fat of illusion so that your sustenance would not affect me until after I had died.  you grew wings of red pallor and soared above me, towering me with your ingratitude.  you were a lie.  you were disease. you were the coward I feared in myself and you were the chance I needed to be.  Passivity, in return became my makeshift.   I left passion out on the pasture, cutting off her knees, swearing her to chains, and leaving her in solitude as she spoke in tongues to the breeze.  For months I left her sitting, dormant and alone. I denied my association to her. I dissembled my core.  I took apart my puzzle and placated my soul by pretending passion was superfluous, her fumes too futile, toxic to the soul.  but now that I am in the aftermath of the emptiness she has left, I realize her importance. I recognize her course. I am transfixed with the beauty of how passion lives in me. I come to life in her wake and her innocence overwhelms the lion I so feared her out to be.

~Angela Rachelle 
(circa 2009)

 

photo: www.3bp.blogspot.com

a haunting.

the black wind that surrounds me, pelts my skin in the hours before birds sing, in the predawn of birth, during the heat of winter as I sit still in silence alone in my room. I have become an escapist, surviving life by suffocating myself in as many moments as I can clutch. I’m hurrying through my days, not allowing the implication of what you’ve done to fester inside me, afraid of the depth that your death will have on me. but. it is your deminse that lives inside of me; haunting my core as the fiends of hell knock on my door. my neck hangs heavy in the aftermath of what you’ve done.
I feel the weight of your rope noosed around my throat, sucking my spirit right through its dirty, evil tongue. tears pale my face as the silent wailing leaves me breathless. It feels somedays like I have no place to turn. you have left me alone in a world whose face is dark.you have said goodbye without speaking words. you have taken yourself, willingly, into a world who was not ready to have your grace and you did so without ever consulting a soul. I am not ready to let you go. my heart still bleeds in tidal waves. my voice still shaky in the realization of your resolution. I sing lullabies to myself that remind me of your love, like a child still in search of security. I am robbed now of everything I took for granted and I cannot stand to breathe this air knowing that the demons that seized you also speak to me in the language that we spoke together quietly in our shadows, softly in my wake.