Saturday, April 10, 2010

The Elusive Hope

Sweet curls of smoke slid past her lips lazily trailing to the ground.
she leans back and lifts her chin, staring off into neon curves.
Amidst shadows and voices, she's all at once present and absorbed in her own distance.
The bassline paces her breath and her thoughts.
Clutching tightly to who she's known for years she begins a process of seperating and sorting.
In the company of chaos her ideas can be hers and hers alone.
Opinions, joys, beliefs, and fears all spin together in a hazy stream
Filtering through her carefully constructed defense she can only believe this is some form of that elusive feeling she assumed to been rid of for so very long.
The elusive Hope
Humbled to be given a glimpse of it again, she'd almost forgotten it existed.
Savory traces of it teased every pore, flirting with a fabric so fragile that every fold verged on collapse.
She quickly inhaled those curls of smoke attempting to capture what she felt
before slipping quietly off into an abyss of ambivalence once more
curiously eyeing the bodies around her, caught up in a world that has felt skittish since she lost her place in it
Could she still belong here? Would a fight be warranted? Is the taste on her tongue that of something previously unattainable?
Closing her eyes and succumbing to a delicious weight where seconds, hours, days, weeks ago there was only emptiness.
maybe its time to face the same question she's had many times before.
And search for answers within perfumed pillows of silken smoke.


  1. I think about you more often than you know and no matter what shit you're going through (including the evil fuck face), you always make me smile. One person. Aren't you amazing?

  2. Well, that was a stupid-ass comment - of course it's more often than you know. What? You live in MY twisted brain?

  3. You're am awesome writer Becca. I want a signed copy of the book you're writing!