cowboy: an exposition

this blog all started because of a cowboy.

back when brian (the guy who created oneword) was still writing poetry online and letting oneword participants list links to their websites. i found the cowboy's site through the word "twilight." I left him a comment, he returned the favor and we soon became digipals. later, he became the first internet window that i fell in love with.

for whatever reason, we both thought that a site dedicated to my oneword creations would be awesome. so he designed and set up a site for me based around this picture: the starz are awake.

but we hit a glitch in our relationship when he fell in love with someone he could touch and see in person. i was hurt. and i decided to start the site over on my own. the rest is history.

he is now married and only blogs about nerdy computer things that i have little interest in. but he'll always be my cowboy. and i'll always think of him whenever i am outside in evening twilight.

oneword: harbor

illusory safety. i've hidden a lot of danger under the blond hair, beneath the blue eyes. incredulity. distrust. fear. looming, building, pressurizing, condensing into a solid mass of insecurity.

your ship can't land here. i can barely dock my own.

oneword: cowboy

You came in with the spring's wind, you whiskey-drinking, country music sonofabitch. I fell in love with your swagger, your stony eyes, your careless demeanor.

Instead of a trusty steed, you had a beat-up old Corolla. Still, we rode off into the sunset together, or so I thought.

I called you my Cowboy, my outlaw. But you stole everything. I guess you really can't tame restless hearts.

oneword: guilty

My last memories are of you sitting in your wheelchair, one hand clutching the babydoll we bought you for Christmas, the other latched onto mine like steel. Pop's feeding you, brother is off with Mom making sure they kept your room clean this time. No words, no conscious thought. Just those eyes. Those piercing blue, hit-you-like-an-ocean-wave eyes. Looking at me, searching. Trying to remember, I hope.

You never deserved that state of total dependence.

I didn't come see you enough. I dreaded walking into that nursing home. But you know what causes me the most guilt of all? That week we knew we were losing you. I didn't want to come say goodbye. I can't even handle the cemetery these days, because I feel so horribly that the last days of your life, I wasn't there for you.

oneword: guilty

cultivated and nurtured over time, i was the caretaker to a mind satisfied only when chasing. running. trying too hard to conquer something i had no business fighting for.

relearning how to live, breathe and pine for something more than cat and mouse... this lioness is weary.

i see myself still perpetuating the pattern. and after the high wears off, i am left guilty knowing that i have merely pushed what i really need farther away from me.

oneword: extreme

standing at either one end or the other, we look down the hallway. wondering. waiting. there is no where to go but forward. but we don't move. all we can see is that destination. we forget all of those in betweens along the way.

oneword: extreme

remembering the times he would push her, yell, sit staring at the wall in silence...avoiding her tear-stained face because looking her in the eyes would reflect back the boyfriend he used to be, and the one he was turning into. she realizes now. that wasn't love. it was about power, control, how fast can i make her cry and then fall for me all over again. a game. the other extreme. she lost every time. she thought she lost everything.

now she's climbing back up. realizing her potential. stretching her wings. meeting people that make her believe again. maybe not in the fairy tale, but at least she is being realistic.

oneword: discipline

go ahead, disciples. follow the line. it curves and breaks and cuts back and forth and while you have an idea as to where you are headed, there is no clue in sight that you'll actually get there.

oneword: discipline

correct me. punish me. whatever. i learned a long time ago that the best way to get along with you is to ignore you. your discipline held me back from finding out what the world is really like, from finding me. turns out i was hidden somewhere in the dark corner of that claustrophobic cage.

sometimes i hate myself when i am around you, because i never meet your expectations. i have tried to create a life for myself that stacks up to the frame you tried to shove me into.

and the really sad part is that i can't remember the last time you said you were proud of me.

instead, all i can recall are the things i've worked my ass off to forget.

oneword: few

i'm sure that someone out there would start off with "few people know how to love, how to be kind to one another, how to *insert your own fucking mindless cliche about how we are SUPPOSED to be*...."

but those reek with undertones of optimism. the hope that someone, somewhere out there has their shit together. and right now, i'd much rather tell you that too few people even ACT like people anymore...which makes me a hypocrite. because, yes, i am suggesting that there is still some good out there.

that's the problem with "few." you keep plugging along, hoping someone will change your mind.

oneword: few

few have really seen these words. read them. bothered to figure out what any of the vagueness is referring to. my underbelly is pink and plush, full of secret loves, hopes and dreams that i am too afraid to share with most. because most just blow them off.

maybe they are too scared too.

oneword: aisle

all eyes on me. step, together. step, together. "isn't this what you've wanted, what you've dreamed about your entire life?"

but his face is blank and i want to run. i am boxed in by their wall of smiles, pushed ever closer to a stranger who i am supposed to accept is the ONE.

the one time i inserted a face, a smiling, crying, happy groom...yes, all just an empty dream.

and the bells? they sound like a dirge.

oneword: plus

plus-sized, big fat bloated eyes ready for juicing, squeezing love and life and moments of gazing at me. reflections of intentions i have dance around those laugh lines you smirk away carelessly. you ask me how my song goes. truth is, i already knew the words... but not the melody. at least, not until you played it for me.

oneword: mystery

how is it that we are back here again? how is it that no matter how far i push or pull or bend or break, it all comes back to this. this same room. this same internet window. is this home? or is this just my holding pad? what is it that will finally stick? what is it that i have been waiting for?

oneword: chase

knew this guy. good egg, that one. lazy as the day is long. still. a good guy. he went and lost his mind on the drugs you know. chasing the dragon. said he could quit anytime. i told him to prove it but he only gave me that little smile. last time i saw him he was a cage. not jail. that would have been much better. he was in a cage being sold as a sex toy.

ghost

naked angels

i'm rearranging and i don't say anything anymore. remember when we used to rail and rant and rave against everything. we were rage before there was a machine. we lamented broken hearts, false smiles, and restrictions heaped upon us by "The Powers That Be."

remember?

and now, what? our jobs. new people. new places. it's hard to stay in touch, stay together, stay integrated, but we've tried because naked angels forever. but we're all on our own adventures now with everything that is not one another.

what do you say, angels? one last farewell ride? one last grand adventure?

this morning i sat watching the sun rise to my own beating heart.



ghost

attendance?

the computer that i am using @ work has this pink index card with "attendance?" written on it. it's there to remind the teacher that i am subbing for to turn in their attendance report for that day.

i thought it might make a good do-it-yourself oneword, since the site has had the same damn word up there for who knows how long. i'm going to start picking random words again because i'm getting restless.

so yeah. here goes: attendance?

are you going to be there? because i don't want to go if you aren't going. the thought of being alone over there with all of those people i don't know very well makes me nervous. i sometimes wonder how i would fair if i didn't have you to lean on in times likes this, and really feel as though you could be holding me back. but that comforts me in a sad sort of way because at least i know what i'm in for with you and me and the same idle chit chat we always have. not having to worry about the balance changing. not having to think on my toes. to actually get involved or risk something. just tell me you'll be there so i can just go into autopilot and live here in this cushy little situation i have built for myself. just tell me that you want to hide with me.

solo

solo. so low. my chest is bare from crawling on the ground. across the broken bottle shards of what was. across the ashes i can't seem to pull myself together enough to rise out of. i never really cared for the myth of the phoenix anyway.

funny how many "friends" you have when you're down in it. they say nice things, remind you to rise above, keep your chin up, give it time.

they are fools.

from brash beginning to the bitter end, we are all, each and every one of us, alone.



ghost

one word: solo

flying away, high and unevenly. one of my wings is broken. and i'm alone. but it doesn't take away from the fact that i am up in the air... soaring and free... even with all the pain.

oneword: blind

the pain is so bad i can't see. i can't see more than 5 minutes in front of me. what happens later on shouldn't be of a concern. can't be a concern. but you let it rule you like you can't see me.