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March 8th, 2011

One Closed Eye Of A Color

The Circle Must Be True As Green + Blue

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It has been 52 weeks since I crossed the line of the perimeter driving and reading a story, simultaneously, on a piece of glass in my hand. A story I had once heard before, only this time different, it was where all could see, certainly me, when all I had heard or seen directly and personally was not for anyone, simultaneously. I would see more like this, in these 365 days, more than I can count, over and over, night after day. I fail myself sometimes and I look, they are still being made. It won’t ever stop no matter the state of how could you. I stopped for 120 days out of these 365. I learned time now means less to me the all the sudden you now count it, just so. So I won’t anymore and all stories now will be just what I want and only what I want, too. This one long ago now was a story about the color green and the color blue. It was about the way these colors can change in one’s eyes depending on the light when one’s eyes are open. So sayeth for one so sayeth for another. It made no mention of the colors when all these sets of eyes are closed. This was the day I arrived.

In this circle of time and of a promise I just found, I saw the aquamarine of one closed forever eye I also just found. This is not my story as it should be, could be, it is the story of what is, of what was likely all along as if I never existed or if existed only for my parts. This is the story of what I may have seen clearly had my eyes not been so closed. I gave more than my absolutely everything.

I saw these eyes once, these other eyes of green + blue. I couldn’t really tell this night, the light wasn’t right, there was no sun at this opposite of noon. So I stood right in front of them, 10, maybe 15 feet away. I faced them, then I waited, looking directly and full of patience, unmissable. I was not subtle. These other eyes were under a white construction helmet, above a loose fitting t-shirt, pants that fit like pajamas and above sockless feet in small little flip flops. These other eyes like to use words like magnificent and extraordinary to describe what is obviously so, but when I looked at them with my eyes, as I had already seen more of this other eyed individual than I should on glass, I didn’t see either of these things in them. They just looked shorter then I had imagined. I kept standing there, patiently waiting. These other eyes of green + blue looked left and looked right, leaning on the bar with their back, one out stretched arm one direction along the rail, the other arm outstretched the other way, those eyes looking each way too. Back and forth, never straight ahead, never at me, right in front of them with my green + blue. These other eyes were waiting, for this was a party meant for pain and other eyes was waiting for the bell of the ball, she was his to have. You see, other eyes likes to watch bell of the ball hurt people in worlds of pretend fairytales, then they go home, having taken only what they want away from others. Other eyes likes seeing me hurt at her hands too. So here I was, by almost happenstance. No more glass between us, no more bell of the ball to hide behind, here I am sir, hurt me, directly. I am patiently waiting…..

Seconds became minutes, too many. So I lost interest and walked away alone. I would receive no hurt, I would receive no direct look, no look straight ahead as I watched and waited for it in my spot of cannot be missed, this sir would not hurt me, look at me, directly or I had the wrong eyes in the dark, it all meant the same now.

It took me these 52 weeks to see, other eyes of green + blue only wants to see me hurt from far away, just like his bell of the ball only loves me from far away.

Now that I was real, now that I was more than words and pictures on glass, now that I was inside this perimeter,
I would not be seen.

This knight of the sky I found with one closed forever eye of a color, it fell for no reason I can see inside two lines that make a perimeter of nothing nor intersect. 52 weeks = 365 days = a promise circle I am not in and I am tired of what has been taken away and I am burnt out on hearing lies and I am exhausted from losing count of what I never should have been shown just how I was and I am depleted from hiding what I never ever promised to and I am crippled from giving away more than I had to give.


I gave you all 5 fingers of my hand before you said, “Too Much.”

I have been given the finger, but not ever offered one. This is heavier than the weight of the world.