
Reading his words, my skin feels tender to the touch. I want to be inside the mouth of his mind. I want to know how this all works, where it comes from and if I can go there, too. But he is his own and I am my own and one is not meant to be the other. If it were meant to be so, it would be. I close the pages, tuck them into my messenger bag and squint against the brightness of the sun.
I take the cigarette and drape it onto my lips. I light it and hate myself a little bit as is obligatory and suck in the warmth of this finely rolled trash. I feel smoothly euphoric for the first time in a long, long while. Things are blurry back at home the way it can get on a cold hard day in the bleak-soaked heart of December. Gloom hangs heavy, gray, and low. The bones in your jaw pierce like ice into the rest of your skull.
When you think about it, what we crave most is the end. We want to know where all this is heading and we want to know before anyone else so we can be prepared for come what may. This will never happen, of course, because there is no way to know the end before you live the impossible middle over and over again until you learn some kind of lesson or run away from learning lessons altogether so you can finally feel any single simple shred of any kind of freedom whatsoever.
Freedom is ascension. Ascension is the distance between your body and your mind, your head and your dreams. The hurt he twisted inside of you and the blood drying on the words in your veins. Soul as rose, body as thorn.
In the mornings, we try sex in different positions. Some angles feel better than others. None of them are poetry. When we fight it goes off the rails and never quite gets back on track. We are not exactly sure if we have forgiven each other our various sins or just exhausted ourselves trying. There was a time when I thought I should try to save the world until it dawned on me that the world wasn’t interested.
I spit out an ashy tasting glob of smoke and self-loathing, crush the butt into the pavement underneath my sneaker. For a wicked hot day in the dead heat of summer, my insides feel as though they are frozen snow covered hills, blinding and blinded, rolling out for miles and miles ahead.
Wow your voice is incredible
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Oh my, thank you so much for listening. 🙏🏻♥️
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I’d like to hire you for auditory services, can I have your email
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My email is allisonmarieconway@gmail.com
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Thanks, that probably won’t be immediately but its definitely in consideration, keep up the good work
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Not to worry, reach out anytime. Thank you again, it means so very much to me to know you enjoyed. 🕊
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My first time listening but I really did enjoy
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Warms my heart to hear that. ♥️
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I love this! And I love your voice!!! I usually don’t listen to the audio but this time I did, it’s amazing.😍
I love this write up. It’s beautiful, especially the part about how we’re all looking for the end but there’s always the middle to go through. I feel that.
Amazing post.💙💙
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Dear Joanne, you make my whole heart smile! I love that you listened for the first time… thank you so very much for taking a chance on me, I know it’s a bit different to allow someone else’s voice into your head. I cherish your graciousness. 🙏🏻🌹 And I’m deeply grateful you were moved by the writing, that you felt it …. that’s everything to me. Thank you ever so much. ♥️🌹🕊
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It was great, glad I listened. And your writing always carries a passion.❤️🌹✨
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I’m so glad you’re here. ☺️♥️🌹🕊
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Allison, I admire your courage to look and to share so deeply, with a quiet and ever-passionate heart… you’re one of my favorite morning reads
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Thank you so much, Monika…. I am so deeply grateful that you would take the time to read, listen, share such a kind and beautiful comment. Thank you for being here in my little world. 🙏🏻♥️🌹🕊
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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This was pure genius. ❤️
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Oh my goodness, thank you so much. I’m so glad you enjoyed. 🙏🏻♥️🌹
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I did. Your words spoke to me. So thank thank you. And you’re welcome.❤️
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This warms my whole heart. ♥️🌹🕊
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I am happy it did. You’re an amazing writer.❤️
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You humble me. Thank you so very much. ♥️♥️
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❤️❤️
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Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Amazing written and verbal poetry. Please read and enjoy her work.
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Thank you so much, John. 🙏🏻♥️🕊
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You are welcome dear Allison.
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I love your verbal poetry dear Allison. Thank you for sharing your amazing voice and words.
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You are so welcome, dear John. I’m so touched you enjoy it. ♥️
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I do enjoy. I told you before. I wish I had a pretty voice. I was born with the Bukowski voice. Hello dear Allison and I hope you are enjoying the days of August.
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Wow
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I didn’t notice the audio at first but when I came to the comments everyone was like audio so I came back and saw it, turns out they were right Your voice is great!😀
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I am so grateful you enjoyed! ☺️ Thank you so very much for taking the time, it means worlds to me. 🙏🏻♥️🌹
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