“YOU USED TO MAKE SENSE” by Brian S. Varley Copyright ©2006 Brian Scot Varley You left me in a storm! My screams continuous… I wouldn’t conform! -Why wouldn’t you hear me? “A book on how to hurt you“? That’s what you said! I would never hurt you. -Love for you fills my heart! Got your own place. Said you were still my lover. Didn’t want anyone in your space. And, you wouldn’t come over. -Seems cruel? Christmas night you stood me up. You didn’t answer calls. I didn’t sleep. -It seems “our date was tentative” and you “owed” me “nothing anyway“? In the beginning…. Love making was amazing. Talking was addictive. Touch was public and proud. And, amazing…. -When did we stop holding hands? I remember when we both talked openly about our fear. -We didn’t want to mess “this” up. Saw you drive up at the store. I wanted to run. Then I saw your face. All mad and upset. My heart lead my head. -I just wanted to connect. To console. I hugged you. Said “I love you.” -I meant it. Your words. Your voice. Your tone. Matched your face. I stood and listened. I lost my place. With you. -Neither of us would be so hurt, so angry, if there wasn’t a powerful love between us. Your text later said, “Why did you have to talk to me?” I texted, “I wanted to!” - You are right. I don’t make sense

"VELVET RAINDROPS" Glistening trails of fears, realized tears; Years washing over the same, never the pain; Dammed with best forgotten, waves break skin, again, and again; Moist, dark and dank, knowing where they’ve been; Flowing over our body, shaken by fear, others listening in; Deaf to the suffocating sound, sinking, letting the other drown; Flooded by a new fold, comfortably let untruth be told; Down in smears. Fighting for air. Supported erosion. It was unfair; Disdain, naked and unrestrained, needy souls drained. Tainted, hearts stained; Damning all that was good, unique and, misunderstood; Silently eroding common ground, water under the bridge, how profound; Striking first truths, then our core, soaked memories, once valued, but no more; Truth be hidden, freedoms be bound, no heart and mind, nor empathy will be found; Flushing our yesterdays, tomorrows, and today’s, streaking, stripping away; And, yet, nothing to say; Streaming with the old fold. They all want to know. Wet faced, lost and cold; Taking a nonsensical path, leaving trails within, changing direction with the wind; We let it ripple and break. A deep, calm, beautiful thing, special beyond compare; We were weak; Hurt, angry, confused and feeling old. A few velvet raindrops and love would be sold. Written by Clarvoyant Rebris (aka Brian S. Varley) Copyright ©2006 Brian Scot Varley ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~