displacement

tracking back to nearly a year ago, my how things do change...sitting on a rooftop a hundred streets and eight stories up, a bit of a breeze and a chill in the air. someone too flamboyant for his own good and two of us staring at the sky. two of us just talk talk talking for what seemed like hours, what seemed like days, what seemed like conversations we had to have started years ago, and not just that night. the beautiful beginning of a downward spiral, where we danced around the question and acted like we didn't know the answer, where i fell for ages and hit bottom hard. the climb back out asked far too much of me.

and it wouldn't be an understatement to say i resent it. i resent that so many months of my life were stolen, that so many layers of plating were placed around my heart because i'd be damned if anyone would ever get to do that to me again.

one year later, i can say that i've found my way out of that undergrowth. finally. but the scar is still there, and the scar keeps the wound from ever truly healing.

only impossibility really stirs me now, because only the impossible lacks the power to tear me apart like that.

the temptations's still got its claws in me, though. just a little bit.

...i want to be their be their be their be their be their yoko ono.

because john wants to know what time of day i was born and linda (or lindo, as the gender case is) missed the boat long ago. and paul...still refers to me as the sexy redhead.

and frankly, some rock and roll stories are better left unfulfilled. but they're still fill the dreamtime swimmingly.

how much has really changed in a year? less than you'd think. i'm a little older. i'm a little harder. i'm a little more resilient and a lot more careful with where i leave my heart. i can say that when i'm truly switched on, i'm hell in high heels. i'm still lightly smitten with one of the boys with the band. but this time, i'm wearing fate's claws as a necklace instead of as a tattoo. it will not happen again.