Home is Where the Heart and Mind Meet
The Poetry Collection of Nathan Fox
Passion can burn so hot that it spews forth uncontrollably, that is the brand of passion you brought out in me. The anger was regrettable yet the passion was well-earned. In the moment I struggle to keep pace, but only long after do I begin to wonder what it feels like to be that alive again.
As days blend into months and roll over into years, I still remember the name that never slips my mind. I still recall the laughs and the love shared more vividly than even the events of yesterday. The mishandled passion still hangs as the noose around my once completed soul. Only when my memory stands the test of time and my caring still wishes you the best with or without my presence, do I realize how the touch of a true love feels. Only when I bare daily witness to my ever-dangling soul before my mind do I realize that home can only be made where the heart and mind meet.
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Clinging to Childhood
The playground is empty, as it should be past sundown. There is a warm breeze, and I can see everything despite the late hour. What time is it, anyway? It could very well be past midnight. I can never keep track of time, especially in the summer. A prickly piece of popcorn hides like a stowaway in the left cup of my padded training bra. I stuffed the tissue in last minute— a decision I’m beginning to regret, based on the events that are unfolding rapidly before me. To my left, laying non-chalantly on his back, is my date for the evening. He is two years older, could probably grow facial hair if he wanted to, and drives a secondhand Honda. He may as well be a Man. I, on the other hand, feel like a fraud with my too-short short-shorts, sparkly lip gloss, and makeshift push-up bra. I keep my arms pinned to my sides as I feel the dreaded circles of sweat beginning to manifest on my brand new Abercrombie top. I cup my elbows with my hands and stare down at my hint of cleavage, praying that the tissue doesn’t pop out like a white flag surrendouring my lack of womanhood.
By Marti Maley6 days ago in Fiction
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