In response to: Wet Shore
A copper key hangs from a hook beside my bed. I read you, when that key has a quiet conversation with the jelly fish fearing ocean fearing bear trainer in side me. But you know, that I would stride into that water to drag you out of it. You know I would bitch and curse all the way and freak out like a girl if anything touched my feet, and when we got to shore I would be checking my clothes for any signs of stow away sea life. My two greatest fears… the things that lurk in the ocean – and fire. Watching someone I love die in a fire. Quite the dream there sugar!
The part I liked the most was that you know somewhere deep down that I cant fix your mess, so I wont insult you by trying. I can be ‘there’ when I need to be – and I know that when you do need me to pay more attention you will say something. I love you, for your independence and your ferocity and for your strength. You get low. Really low – but it’s not a weakness. You are human and have a fuck load of shit going on.
So much for the poem I was going to write. But I felt your poem was just so beautiful and this type of response was perfectly appropriate. You have the mind of a pack leading no nonsense warrior. BUt you have the heart of someone who has been lied to, betrayed and let down and deeply broken and disappointed too many times. I believe – those things may not have been pleasant at all – but they have sharpened your sense of compassion and beauty and acceptance.
As for the music I would be sending you, that is in fact what I would do… want to hazard a guess as to what music I would be filling your brain with – with the desire of detaching your brain from your heart?
J, your entrance into my life was perfectly timed and I am grateful for you. I don’t always show it very well because I get caught up in my own drama – you know I would cross the ocean if I needed to. And if you don’t know that – then you have not been paying attention.
Respect, Love – and mild confusion that you used the word ‘spite’ in the tags for that post.
You are beautiful.
BT, Me, Creep.
3 thoughts on “I Dont Surf. ( For J )”
Beautiful just beautiful
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Reblogged this on Americana Injustica.
Beautiful post. Very comforting and reassuring for me undergoing some sort of stress-fatigue syndromes.
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