A BABY'S POETIC JUSTICE
by: Nicholas A. Harper
Introduction: This is a simple collection on the reproductive Tragedy called Love.. The finding love in the loss of love. Love in its purest and most devious forms. All facets of love: Self-love, love of one’s fellow man, love of Mother Earth, love of ones family, , love of the one person whom you love the most, and the power of love that after one’s love has been knocked to the ground to get up and love again. So yes I’m inviting you to read another book about the most talked about topic that shall never get old. For what else do we have in life more valuable than love? Money yes, but money burns like rice paper when tested to the heat of love. I think we all know in our deepest hearts that love is worth more than money. Still we find ourselves chasing money over love. We’re all human I suppose. Then again that is not true. We Chase love harder and faster than any silly precious ore, gem, or synthetic creation.
. What exactly are the products of a broken heart? Well this collection represents such a product. How can we go on after it’s been broken? How the heart is broken by those who should cherish that heart more than anyone else in the world. I hope to provide options for these age old questions. I say options and not answers because I don’t believe there are solid answers out there. As a collective we as the human species only have our individual experiences to guide us through this all too common quest. What I can say is that through my observations of others and those of myself I find that there is only one true tool to forage one’s way through said jungle. That is the retelling over and over again of one’s heartbreak. Through a severe dissection of the event is one allowed some sense of peace. Still after such a journey, one may still be left asking many questions to the fourth wall of their psyche.
Are we alone in life? Can and will anyone truly love me? How can there be good in this world when it is full of so much hate? These are questions that we all have whispered to the dark as we fall asleep. As we dance alone in the kitchen these thoughts are whirled about our heads. To deal with these questions requires a brute honesty that is as rare as it is necessary. I have tried with all my heart to implant such a honesty into these pieces set before you. Yes they are specific to the contemporary age and while some are disturbing, I beg for you to search for the simple ache within them. It will not be easy, and at times you will feel that there is no point in finding hope in such despair.Yet, as I have discovered in the telling of these tales it is there. As many have said before me, Hope finds its way. So buckle down and prepare yourself. If there is one thing that I hope this collection accomplishes it is that it will inspire humans to genuine self awareness. So It Goes. .
HUNT
Bartering Hearts Always Fall Short of Rescue
Cupids arrows seem to never pierce my lovers Skin
THUNDERCLAP
A Flower Blooms
Seal still gets captured by the Shark
Such is the will of Nature
Will Nature bring me my Nurturing Beau?
COPYCAT
Once there was a boy, who was constantly creating masterpieces with his building blocks. He would spend hours and hours of a day building and destroying, then building a more spectacular structure, and go right on building another and destroying, and so on and so forth. Not his mother nor father could tear him away from his blocks, or figure what he was trying to achieve. They hoped he would be an architect, even so his mother tried to get him to read books and his father to play ball, but all he wanted was his blocks. He only took two breaks a day to eat and use the restroom. He didn’t allow anyone in his room while at work. So it went that day in and out, he would toil away with his blocks searching for the perfect who knows what. Then one day, as usual building up and knocking down, he stopped. He looked out of his window, then glanced at the four walls of his room, and suddenly began to cry, not a cry for aid, or the strain of a mother bringing a child into this world, or a man groaning as his entrails spun out of him, but a wail so full, so gargantuan, so far-reaching that it enveloped the earth and drowned out all other sound. It lasted for 6 minutes, and for those 360 seconds the population of the planet experienced simultaneous identical pain. The wail ended and we all felt the deafness of silence, everything was incapable of motion, even hummingbirds froze. The world stood still for another minute, not knowing what would come. What did come was more defeating than if it had been an army of super advanced aliens, what did come was Life. The boy was given a Nobel Peace Prize the next day, for stopping time.
Love-Writer's Bloc
I have officially ceased trusting myself. I doubt that my heart could/would survive another Katrina, Ryan, or Andrew. I give up. There's no more matter, grey or red otherwise to squeeze from my flabby gastric organs. I can’t spell compassion, never could really and refuse to etch out any more scenes of flowers and rainbows; especially rainbows in fact, Fuck Rainbows. There I said it. Wait for it...some galactic moment of inspiration, the man with chocolates in his hands and a illegal ring on his left hand.Wait For it Damit. 5 Beats. See Saying Some-Thing wont help me super glue something shattered into countless shards that can and will remember who they slice into. Super glue cannot mend this fallen superego. I am a lover sans his v, a writer without a muse. That leaves me as empty-handed as Iranians rioting for MTV. Maybe I should join them? It'd give me at least some passion for my com. I'd finish the piece, but there's this damn Block.
WAITING
Imagine if you will that the ants of the world collectively invented a flying machine that enabled them to collect more crumbs, see more estranged colony members, and spend their tithes(which are meant to go to The Queen) on lavish vacations to the Virgin Islands. Then consider that this flying machine used some sort of fuel other than the enzymes of the ants belly. Then realize that ants would have to construct buildings much like a human airport. This is where we find our story. Calvin had been a renegade of colony 192830xr837b for some time now. However, the news that his Queen otherwise anointed Edna had fallen ill with belly cancer and was soon to divvy up control and the prime real estate of colony 192830xr837b.Death, is the one thing to disrupt the ant's biologically pre-disposition life. So Calvin sat at the flying machine's hub much like a human airport waiting for his machine to take off. However the sky was black and every other ant it seemed was at this building much like a human airport. Calvin sat waiting for what seemed an eternity folded in on it. Really it was just an hour and forty minutes. But any time spent in such close quarters with other ants without a job to do forces time to stretch out to an annoying distance. Sooner rather than later to keep the action going, a bomb exploded. Pieces of ants when every which way, yet our man-ant was completely unharmed. The explosion-pandemonium orbited him. He observed the whole event from the center, 4.2 seconds slower than reality. Have you ever inserted an ant with a microscope, like that just bigger. Then as the honeycomb collapsed onto him, he realized why the woman-ant next to him face had been so alarmed a minute ago. He was the center, he was the bomb. I suppose he should have been x-rayed and patted down at the Dept of Ant land Security checkpoint. He'd eaten a bomb at a Ant-Fundamentalist cafe that morning. This all took place on a Sunday in November.
Sunday Evening
Sketches of pristine ice sculptures shaped into skeletons of a drop of Exxon/shell oil. Is your central heat worth? The polar bear cub sailing away on a sheet of ice from his mother into the Arctic Sea? As hard as my heart goes out to that adorable cub, It's cold a fuck in Chicago, and I wouldn't trade my toasty nook for any cub that was dumb-shit enough to wander away from his mother. Call me selfish and materialistic but that's the truth. I doubt many reading would be so inclined to relinquish any commonplace benefit of the burning of fossil fuels for said cub. So I’ll sign as many petitions necessary to get those people on the sidewalk to stop talking to me, but don’t you dare take away my central air conditioning.
Wave Back
Have you ever heard that hollow side of music?
It's half deafening, part the noisiest fucking thing on the planet and a sliver of that lonely piece of your soul that only gets acknowledged when you wave at it.
What are we really trying to get at when we bang some sticks and animal hide together is that hollow side of each other. Better yet a collective recognition that we have that sliver that we only wave to when we bop our heads to some familiar tune. Beat. Isn't that why you're reading now? Hoping for some syllable to land into a crevice between some brain cells and fall just in reach of you=self. Hell, that's why I do. I write so that maybe, someone, just once, will wave back.
CLAM
The Sun beat down as I fasted in the hut by the sea.
Just as I was about to pass out, I saw my veins rise to the sky and wring themselves out
God replied with a clap, Light fell and made me a turkey and ham sandwich w/Spicy Mustard.
Rain fell for 40 minutes and I profess now that I sung my heart out to help the thunder along.
I spoke with an elder, he agreed with me and my plan to create a new heart out of mud
I sinned in speaking to the elder for my lover had told me not to trust the man beneath the stairs
But I break promises in times of great need.
Excuse me Elder(For drinking all your gin), Forgive Me Lover, We'll Dance Around the Moon All Alone Again
Just not right now. This mud needs molding.
A letter to Black Music
*Tweet*
Stone Mountain monkey beats wrapped in mahogany stole from the ivory coast. Distributed anywhere in the country at a low flat rate. Get them while you can, Lil Wayne's buying them up quick so he can inject them subliminally. And we'll pound our heads to the beat of Sudanese women and children being decapitated by Chinese machetes. There's something sweet about Palestinian blood running over LL's abs, but nothing more redundant than the news flash about another 10 American soldiers and 120 Afgans shredded by a roadside..
* tweet,*
interrupting Britney Spears' performance on the VMA's....It's ok Yell to the T.V "I don't give a fuck" Then imagine a mortar tearing through your frame as you walk home from the water hole in Sierra Leone. I don't mean to offend, I just want us to put our heads up. Or rather down, like a Muslim at high noon, so we can feel our mother's pulse.
Fuck Twitter
Search for Somalis Gunning for a Surplus.
Politics reserve nothing for plum empty stomachs. Plumes have been exchanged for AK's and early graves. But damn if I could get my hands on a few Euros, I'd grow so much wealth the Saudis wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. It fucks my head how I stand on the Horn of the eldest core of Pangaea, and I have nothing to show but my bare ribs. I know this straight like my forefathers knew the shape of endocrine system, then taught the Others where our rage is born. But I’ll not be so foolish with my knowledge. No. I'll tease it out of their yachts. If nothing more than to seem them hustle as hard as I do for my daily bread. I'll build neat stacks of Hala, and watch them grow and grow; that I cannot eat or give them away with enough haste. But don’t fret I’m not so dumb enough to invest in AIG,I will put some towards AFRICA
DOVETAIL
There is an incomparable mix of baby-boys and boy-men bobbing among the audience of potential warm virgin guns. Rarely do they pause for a sip of water, and take no time to notice the shapes of the clouds telling them to look to their own palms for love. However, at this fork in the road they have ceased all protective cynical banter to let a drop of dew settle on a branch. Carlos' cart slows to a standstill at the entrance to room 304. Sweat gathers on his brow and he prepares to clean semen and hollow love from the floor. A Story is in Order[ A girl who was loved in every way she could desire, and some ways she was confounded by, and others she knew were the punishment for. This girl would pass her days by serving her creator whose name was Fred. Her deliverer had long since passed beyond this realm of flesh. Her name was Lula. "Would you like some juice with your eggs Father?" Lula asked Fred on a rather crisp Wednesday morning in the den where she served him his 3 meals. "No daughter" replied Fred. Lula turned and began to leave the room "Wait" Fred proclaimed and Lula stood stone still. "Come to me daughter" Lula obeyed as she always did, she was a very disciplined obedient girl, or young woman for she had just reached the year of 15. "What do you want?" "Fred begins to unzip his pants and pulls out his ever-punctual penis. "My morning wood is just as stubborn as your mother, soothe it away.". Without hesitation or question Lula proceeded to jack her father off. Then with a harsh hand he pulls her head to suck him, and she does. There's a rudimentary routine in her blow-job. It does not take Fred long to ejaculate onto Lula's hair. A drop graces the floor as Lula heads to the kitchen. "Excuse me" Fred bolts as he puts his member away, "My seed is on the floor. We both know what must be done" Lula with the same routine goes to the spot of cum, kneels, and licks it up, gets up and goes into the kitchen. Mornings maintained this routine, always. Lunch and Dinner involved further activities many that I will not indulge in the re-telling, but know this, every night The Creator pollinated his subject. She knew this was at the least abnormal, she had no friends or contact with the outside world, still in her midnight confidences with herself she knew that her relationship with her father was of a peculiar nature. Her first pregnancy was at 10, many more came after. She never saw her children/siblings. They were always whisked away. Beside it all though, she loved Him. The Bible instructed that one was to honor thy mother and father. Her mother gone, her father was the only thing left to honor. Fred, well Fred was no deviant (on the surface). He owned the field of wind turbines that provided power to the surrounding cities. Thought a renaissance man by the community. Lula felt she was the harbor of electricity for the land. She saw her regular rapes as a right of passage. Yet, one day she awoke and thought "If I am the harbor for life, why must I obey one physical Man, the only one I owe anything to is God, and I feel that he owes me much more". Call it hormones or just a person coming to terms with the four walls enclosing them. Lula, before she moved from bed, swore to herself that she would confront her Father about their Routine. She sat complacently watching Fred devour his breakfast that morning, for she wanted for nothing and cared for nothing but to witness the final swallow . As he swallows his last bit of Toast she said, wide eyed looking into his grey iris " Daddy when will you grow up and stop wishing I was your wife?" to which he replied "My dear I've had a wife and she drove herself mad with jealousy. She was Jealous of you. I always loved you more than her, so she climbed a turbine and leaped to her Sin" Lula continued "When can I see my Sons and Daughters" asked the 15 yr old soul. " When you can define Splendiforous" "But it's not a real word father" cried our Lula
"Which is why the order of things will stay as they are. Now come and let your Creator taste your flower. No just go on and suck my dick. " replied Fred. Lula approached her Father as he unzipped his pants and removed his member.Lula took her hair in her hand and swung it to the left of her head and lowered her mouth to his Other Head. As the Shaft slid past her lips she heard the wails of her countless children/siblings, tasted the countless loads of her father's cum in her throat and saw the picture of her Mother, all at once. Without thought or hesitation, she brought her upper and bottom teeth together in a swift motion. She tasted Blood. Fred sat Motionless, Gaping silently in Shock. Lula took his member out of her mouth and firmly slapped him with it. Then coolly "Where are my Children?" Fred now aware of the Medusa he'd raised reached into his pockets and handed Lula a set of Keys. "They're Under the House, I've kept them fed, they believe your mother and theirs are the same. Please believe me Lula when I say that I love my children more than anything in this wide world" He begins to show weakness due to massive blood loss, Lula stands stone faced with his dick in her hand. He goes on "I know that I've done something horrible but I believe God will reward me in the end. You now have the family that you've always pined for. You'll be the mother that yours never was" As Fred finishes his thought, Lula picks up his Knife off the breakfast tray and stabs him in the trachea. As he Chokes on his own blood, Lula takes the Keys and shoves the member into Frank’s mouth. She runs out of the house, around the sycamore and to the small white door that she's never seen the other side of. She Opens it to find 5 Children, gaunt, pale and love-starved. She brought them into the sun and bathed them in the lake and her tears. only 5 could speak. They also had no names. So she named them. The boys were called James,Thomas and Andrew,. The girls Bethany and Catherine. After the baths, Lula led the Children into the house. Frank's Body still lay in the den, dickless and a knife in his throat. They all Proclaimed "Daddy's DEAD!!!! PRAISE GOD!!!!" See they too knew of Fred. First thing to be done was the dismemberment of the Creator. Lula did it with a hacksaw.. When the last of Frank was packed away into bags,She looked to her 5 Children/Brothers/Sisters. Steeped in the Creator's blood she felt more helpless with these 10 eyes glancing up to her than she ever did face-down in her pillows under the weight of her father. She Gathered them all into the car in the garage, promising a drive and a view of the world they've never seen. A muffler gets stuffed with socks. All packed in, Lula put the car in reverse, didn't bother to wait for the garage door to open, backed out and drove right past the Dogwood and into the Lake. Underwater, Lula opened the car door and shut it behind her, leaving her children to the Kelp Forest. She reached the shore and stretched her body under the sun. 3 Breaths. She let out a wail and rocks tore into the skin of the back of her neck.The water lapped against her calves and she cried herself to sleep.] Carlos enters the soiled sully hutch of 304, he cleaned the sheets, swept the shards of a swift sexual euphoria into his bin.(Breath) Then proceeded to 305.
AMBITION
I often feel as though they werecorrect when they told me that just because you want something that it'll come to you. Three yr olds are a reverent reminder of this fact.Every three minutes they pounce along to the next bright mutation of the present moment. It is then that we become associated with success and failure. Ambitious spirits grapple with this incontinent lust their As the Duck says "I float on water, what use is water?". This Duck Drowns. Dust.
BANG
Click
Sip
[Boom]
Click
Dip
[Boom]
Did I hit her?
My love who rejected me for the fourth time.
No?
Shick
Clip
[Boom]
There I got her. Although I think I hit my teacher by accident.
Oops.
[BANG] (I fall to the floor)
Wake up
Clean white sheets call you to dream but baby please Wake UP
I know fairies paint the ceiling white and pink, those hues are just fantastical figments baby wake up!
You can run wild in painted masks in reality while you carve the face of real wood. So for both our sakes wake to me holding a knife and a block for you to widdle into your cheeks.
Damn Th' Institution
I think I just re discovered my conversational voice, I've, officially, stepped through the macabre poetic veil of my addiction to prophetic, prolific prose. Damn, still there, can't shake Shakespeare after he's dug his participle into your arse. Ass.
Damn
Damn It
Damn, I think I’m in love.
Damn molecular biology
Damn Iranian Elections
Damn the IRS
Damn President Hoover for fucking up the 20's
Damn Bush for his Yale Illiterate Inaugural speech, speeches.
Damn that was 8 years.
Damn I Hope We can cope.
Damn Sweatshops
Damn College Loans
Hope's a Joke
Joke, Coke,Toke.
Damn I need to smoke.
Damn Why did I Have to Google "Ponzi Scheme"
Damn AIG,
Damn $ isn't the worst of our problems.
Damn.
ALONE
Harper: Men. Well they are inferior but so finite. Well Are they? They feel everything just as Women do, and through my times with Gilbert and Fin I’ve learned that they do care for others. Joseph, well he taught. wow I just used the past tense. I mean we don't know if he's dead, but that letter came from him and then the officers just did tell us last week. Yes, He's Dead. I'm so happy for him. I feel that life is just a large lesson in pain, or rather the resolution of pain. Not Physical Pain, that can be aided by medicine and since God, no Mother Earth gave us Herbs, so we have Medicine. We can Deal with that. What God wanted to figure out with humans is...How do I deal with Pain of the Mind? Psychology. I think that it’s by talking, to the walls, then that can drive one MAD. Well I know that because I am talking to my walls,but its helping me. And there's you, my sewing machine. Dilbert. Dill for short. Dill: Hun I think you need to stop holding these secrete conversations with me and actually talk to your brothers. They need to talk about Joseph as well. Harper: No I enjoy my private sessions. Dill: I know sweetie, but Men have trouble talking about immediate issues such as the present situation you all find in yourself. I’m not talking about what you three will do with the house or the land, but how they feel now they are fatherless. Harper: Oh I can tell you. Gilbert is Elated and confused, and Fin is found in that he no longer has to really listen to anyone which is funny because in truth, he always listens to himself, he's just been hiding that. I think he’s mostly sad that his father is gone, Dill: It’s very well for you to say that, but they need to speak their own power into existence.Harper: You are right about that Dill. Dill: And How do you feel? Harper: I'm Happy, No that's a lie. I can't lie to you, damn. I feel...Alone. Alone in my womanhood, which I've never felt before. My Men have always given something to fill my life with, be it food, or work or a drop of rye. I like the loneliness. Its not hollow, well it is but in the most warm way. I think I'll stay alone, or until I find another escape to fill myself with. Ah. I want a child. Dill. A Child. Dill? You there...? Well Now I really am alone. She rises from her machine, goes to the door, places a white bonnet on her head and lace over skirt, and leaves the house.
Hell/Circles/Key Chains
To me Hell will just be one endless tuber ware party.
Martha Stewart and Laura Bush stand there-naked discussing the proper way to store Spinach Dip and Pesto.
There are goodie bags full of key chains that have plastic replications of Martha's pussy, and yes they get wet when you touch them.
Every 5 minutes Martha and Laura begin to smear the pesto and the dip on each other and a it progresses to a wrestling match, that you must take part in. It takes another 10 minutes, and at the end you have pesto,dip,and pubes in places you never knew existed.
In one fell swoop you're clean, A cloud appears above your head where you see Hallie Berry and Isaiah Washington feeding each other strawberries and cream-Naked.
Then the Party starts all over again
Yeah, That's my vision of Hell.
To th’ XBox
Perverted inclinations necessitating killers of children's motor skills. There has rarely been a culprit of such gargantuan proportions.It has openly bored trillion of brain cells world wide unchallenged as the birth of the porn industry. Obtained by an exchange of supple amounts of pretty fake paper. This magical box that transforms your demigod perception of your-self into a super-god-ego. This creation of one generation's gift to their children. It's middle finger will probably be the one piece tech that saves us in 30 years. Currently the suspect is living in and watching in millions of homes, Calculating, while placing our kids in training simulations. Do you have one? I bet you do.
Pick Up A Fucking Book.
FRESH LOVE
A man walking through the forest carrying an Owl Feather spoke “Nature, in all your infinite grace, Have you ever encountered a man of unmatched power and delicate eloquence?” Just then a Centaur trotted by, 7 Breaths. At the sight of the man our centaur bucked and approached the human. Our Man wept at the sight of Creation “Ask not such bashful quandaries of Mother Earth, Ask Sumthin’ Real” (Spoke Creation). Our Man collected himself, parted his lips and breathed “How can I Work to Honor and Sustain the Beauty before my Eyes?” Time paused to gather its Thoughts. “Love the Dirt as your Brain maintains your Flesh” Replied the Centaur and with this the centaur took up the man in his arms. They Fuck. The Centaur births a Eunuch (7 years Old). The Final Kiss. 4 Beats. Our Centaur Gallops off into the wood singing Ave Maria in 5 part Harmony in E flat. The Eunuch looks at his father “I’m Solomon, and you are?” Abraham- said the Man. They lock hands. Owl feather Falls. They walk into the Meadow.
OAKDALE
I.
Number 615. Here I Am. I walk up the wooden stoop and ring the bell. The door swings open, there stands a stout man with a square jaw and bright blue eyes, he says “Come In” I do and cross the threshold into his world. The foyer is full of coats and jackets all in their right place. He leads me up a flight of creaky stairs then a sharp right turn and there we are in his bedroom. Him: Get comfortable. I remove my shirt and pants, as I go to get my underwear he says ‘Let me’ I do and after they are on the floor he wraps me in a kiss so deep that my kneesgo jelly. As I slip he catches me, then carries me to the bed. Me: Wow. Him: I should probably get naked now. Me: Yes. I start to take his clothes off as we continue to kiss, just as I get to his underwear Him: Would you mind if I turn on some music. Me: No. He gets up and moves to the nightstand and puts the Ipod into the dock. A swell of music pours out of the speakers Me: Vivaldi? Spring. Him: Yeah, I can change it, what kind of music do you like? Me: I like everything, including classical, leave it. Him: Ok. We share a smile as returns to me and we fall into each others eyes. The music swells again , I slip his underwear off and we sync. Every delve and crest at the behest of the music. It takes us deeper and deeper into one another. It was the best sex I’d ever had. It was the first time I made love to a complete stranger.
II.
Walking down the street, skipping to Eryka Badu, nothing can seem to weigh me down. I have a wonderful life. Even the bum on the side of the street seems to be grinning with me. There’s no weight in the air today, I feel like spreading a blanket out on the sidewalk and sunbathing. This was the end of my misery as far as I was concerned. All of the pieces of my life seemed to float into their proper place just like the coats and shoes in his foyer. This day was an end to sneaking around his roommate to slip and slide in his bed, because today was the day that he moved to a new apartment just one block away from mine. You know they say the perfect partner has his own apartment and lives a block away? Well I’ve got the perfect partner. I see us hosting tasteful dinner parties to a host of our respectable friends. On even months we’ll throw them at his place and on the odds at mine. It will be perfect.I finally skip my way to my front door and walk in the building then up the three winding flights of stairs to my door. Inside I throw off my clothes, sweaty from my walk and pick up the phone to call my man. Him: Hey Me: Hey baby, How’s the move going? Him: It’s going well. Me: Do you need any help? I’m at home now. Him: Oh no, but thanks for offering. Me: Ok well I’m here if you need me. Him: I know. I’ll call you when we’re done and we can christen my new sheets. Me: Why Sir! I thought you’d never ask. Him: You’re beautiful. Me: I only believe that cause you tell me. Him: Then I’ll never stop. Me: I’ll hold you to that. Him: You better.Ok I’ve got to go. Me: Talk to you soon. Him: Soon. We hang up. By this time the shower is hot and ready and I step in. God couldn’t sweep this grin from across my face.
III.
Ruin. When that sandcastle you spent hours constructing gets swept away by an early tide. You think as a child that you have a firm grasp on the concept. You have no idea that it could apply to you as a person. That you could feel so completely engulfed by despair, so broken and beyond repair. Thankfully we grow up and we learn these things. We learn how to properly lean against one another and how to lean against ourselves, or the nearest solid structure. If there’s ever a moment of recognition of self its during a state of ruin. You are so aware of your state that it breaks your heart all over again. That’s where I found myself when I read a letter slipped under my door on a Thursday evening. The letter read as follows:
Dear Heart,
This is not easy for me to say. In fact I don’t think anything has ever been so hard for me... I have betrayed you in the most complete sense. I took your love because I could do no other thing than love you. You are a beautiful man and I never rightly deserved you. To think of how I have betrayed you, it makes me feel so small, so very small. I am losing my footing here so bear with me. I have AIDS. I’ve had it long before I knew you and I never told you because I was afraid. Fear is a paralizing thing, fear is what kept me from telling you this face to face. Fear is what will keep me from you for the rest of my days. Well Death. I am dying. I am going away now to die. What’s more important is that you get tested and start treatment. I am so sorry Dear Heart. I know that you will want to see me but that will not be possible. I have already left the city. I am taking with me what I believe is the only thing I have left, my humanity. I couldn’t face the look on your face right now. I know that this is a lot for you to swallow and you’ll spend the rest of your life hating me but for what we had, I felt it was worth it. There’s no excuse other than I fell in love with you and I was so sure that you’d reject me. I love you. Don’t you ever forget that I love you more than anythingvin the world. Which is why I’ve left. You deserve better. Ok. I am done . You will never be far from my heart and mind and I wish you all of the happiness in the world. I love you.
Forever Yours,
Him.
How did I let this happen? I mean I’m smarter than this. Things like this don’t happen to people like me. I help the elderly across the street, I pay my taxes, I respect every person that I come into contact with. Fuck.Just when I believe I’ve found the perfect one, life rears its right hand and bitch slaps me. There isn’t any reason to go to a doctor. I might as well just stay here and wait for the inevitable. In fact I don’t know If I’ll ever leave this apartment again. Now that’s silly, I do have to eat, but why? Why try and stop biology, can anything stop this biology? There’s no cocktail that can save me. I’m past the point of no return and I didn’t even know I’d begun the gauntlet. Why did I let myself trust him? Did Love blind me so that I was unable to see the devil cum in me? He is a bastard. A fucking letter under my door, the prick. Just Low. I don’t think I’ve ever been this Blue, ever. What will my Mother say? Oh does this mean I have to tell people. I won’t I’m too embarassed. In fact I dont think I’ll ever have sex again. It’s too dangerous. At least I know that somewhere he is in anguish. Shit, this is going to hurt.
IV.
I survived. At first I denied that it was real. For weeks I told myself it was some joke that He had played on me. So to spite Him, I went out and fucked everything with a penis that stood upright (with no condom). Then I was angry, I burned everything that we had ever shared, He as luck would have it he swept our joint bank accounts clean,so I threw a brick through his apartment's bay window. Seriously i'm still surprised I didn't get arrested. That’s when I finally went to a doctor and it all suddenly became real. I told the doctor that I’d stop having sex, I’d become a monk in Tibet, do any and every ribbon cutting ceremony at a free clinic. Anything for him not to give me antiretrovirals. Didn’t work. Then for months I didn’t leave my house. Lost my job. Hell they almost evicted me.. It wasn’t until then that I told one of my closest female friends what happend. Then the sky began to clear. She validated all my hate for Him but also convinced me that there was no productive product for it. For the sake of my sanity, I had to let it go. And I did. Now this wasn’t something that happened overnight. It took a few years, but it happened. The most important thing I learned about the whole thing was that it wasn’t my fault. Some people are just plain low and don’t care about other people and what sucks is that someone decent always gets burned. However, that fact shouldn’t deter one from ever trusting another human being, only make them that more selective of whom they trust. Did I love again? Not yet. The city is a horrible place to try and actually date someone. Everyone is a multi-tasker and you can never be sure that you’re the only person that your partner is seeing. The honest truth is that i have lost a great deal of faith in people.Though I do have faith that it will return to me, when i least expect it to.I don’t have to guess why He did what He did. I trusted him the second Vivaldi filled his bedroom. I still like to make love to classical music (of course I have sex, I’m not dead) I just don’t allow my heart to sail away from my chest so easily. Call me Cold, I say Wise. So it goes.
Conclusion: It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.
-Marcel Proust
