Untitled.

Just something I've been working on today.
I wanted a venue to place this, it's still rough.
And, it isn't like anything I've posted before..
But, I'm still willing to share.
Please note this is a rough draft, please note any errors directly to me.



How you ever gotten so intoxicated by someone? You know what I'm talking about..

How the sound of his laugh makes your heart race.
The rumble of his voice makes your knees weak.

You just want to reach out and touch his smile,
trace your finger along the curve of his lips.

To get lost in his eyes.
How it would be enough just to live in his presence.

I've been spending a lot of time daydreaming lately. Which, as you know me, isn't always the best thing in the world. When I allow myself to feel, to really let go, it always seems inevitable that the other shoe will drop.

But, in that moment.
Frolicking in the grass with the sun warming my snow white skin, it all seems worth it. To see the water glisten, the birds sing, and to just be free.

I often wonder, if I spread out my arms.
Will I soar? Will the wind lift me up and take me away? How would it feel, to just be.

Bringing myself to the cliff's edge,
I question my sanity. Is it even possible to feel this free, to feel this alive? If I tumble down, I know what awaits. The darkness that will swallow me whole, tear me apart til I become just a shell of who I hoped to be.

Teetering on the edge,
Looking below then back and above again.
My heart has now found it's residence in the throat and that's when I let go.

Falling.
Tumbling.
Soaring.

I just exhale.
Arms spread wide, hair dancing behind me, and a smile on my face.

Beep, beep, beep.
I'm jolted awake, my hands searching around my silken gray sheets to locate my phone. Pressing the snooze button, I roll back over. Pulling my sheets up and over my shoulders.

I lay there in silence.
Exhaling as my finger draws into the sheets.
Tracing the shape of his lips, I smile once again.
I know if I spoke out loud, I'd break this trance.

That as soon as I spoke, he would be gone.
He would dissipate like the dew does from my tulips planted in the garden, like the condensation from my coffee pot does every morning. And, I'm not ready for that.

I'm not ready yet to let go.
Only if my alarm felt the same way.

Beep, beep, beep.
Another exhale.
Picking up my phone, the screen blinding me as it stares into my golden eyes. 5:45 AM displayed brightly on the black and white city landscape background. I know it's time to let go.

Peeling back my sheets, I swing my legs over to the edge of my bed where my feet come into contact with the cold wooden floor. Great, another brisk winter morning. How I wish I could just stay in these sheets.

I make my way through my bedroom and into my bathroom. With a flick of a light, the whites of the walls give my eyes yet another rude awakening. I really should think about painting these walls, it's beginning to look more like a hotel bathroom than one that belongs in a house. From the white walls to the black counter tops that house the only color found in this room. A black vase with an assortment of dying flowers, dropping over it's neck sits directly in the middle of two porcelain sinks.

Sigh.
I really need to remember to get another bouquet before this one dies off entirely. Making a mental note to pick one up after my meeting, I get into the shower. As the warm water pours down along me, saturating my long brown curls, I find myself beginning to daydream once again.

Lathering the soap across my body,
I wonder what his hands would feel like instead. How the cool air of his breath would feel against the back of my neck.

I really need to stop doing this to myself.
Allowing myself to live within this fantasy of "could bes" and should bes".

Turning the shower off, I wrap my white towel tightly around me after drying myself. I move to the counter and begin my morning routine. I brush my teeth, blow dry my hair, and apply light coat of mascara. I only glance into the mirror after I've completed.

I notice how the bags under my eyes are gotten darker, how I look tired. How my lips have paled and are beginning to crack. I force a smile to my face. Time to put that mask up, I mentally tell myself.

I venture back into my bedroom, having left the towel hanging from the door. I move into my closet, another flick of a light. This time the light isn't so harsh as it bounces off the walls filled with clothes, sorted by color, each divided by cubicles of shoes.

I think how OCD of me every time I enter this room. I call it a room because it's half the size of my bathroom and much like my bathroom, it holds mostly black and white articles of clothing with a splash of gray.

Opening up the drawer from the center island, I pull out my under garments; a white laced bra with matching underwear and my stockings. I clasp the bra behind my back and put on the panties. Taking a seat upon the bench, I pull up the nude stockings, scaling them up my legs until both reach the swell of my thighs.

Once again, on my feet. I pull on gray pencil shirt, tucking in a white button down shirt and slip on a pair of black heels.

Click, click.
Flick.

I exit the closet and make my way down the staircase. My house is far too big for me and Jackson; white fluff ball of a cat, who is hiding somewhere. Especially after he who shall not be mentioned by anything but G, moved out almost a year ago. But, I can't help but to still be in love with the place.

The fireplace in the living room, the chandelier above the cherry wood dining table, the stainless steel appliances against the granite countertops and not to mention the incredible view of the mountains in my room.

Flick.
The light spools over my kitchen as I move to make a fresh pot of coffee. I know I should take my father's advice and look into finding some roommates. He tells me each time he speaks to me, "Jennilee, it's not good for a 24year old woman to live in a house so empty." "It's so quiet, can't you find someone to share it with?" "Jennilee, have you looked at the apartments I sent you? I know a family who would love the house."

I just can't imagine sharing my home with a stranger. And, I know I'm not ready to leave this house with all the memories it holds. Pouring coffee into my white travel mug, I gather my keys from the table and move toward the door.

Flick.
Click, click.

I place my mug and keys on the glass top of the end table by my door. I pull on my black pea coat, wrap a lavender scarf around my neck, and swoop back up my belongings.

Exhale.
Smile.

Remember to smile.
I pull open the door, the snow still spilling the sky falls upon my coat as I lock the door behind me. I turn from the door, walking down the steps, I whisper to myself, "Smile. Remember to smile."