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"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx

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I Wrote This For You

January 22, 2012 by Jack Steiner

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Red red Rose

“And Max, the king of all wild things, was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.”  Where The Wild Things Are

In the quiet of the evening I send my soul searching for yours and ask that it remind you of how two hearts stopped time. My eyes are shut but my heart is open and all I can do is hope that this time you will let yourself hear what your heart is saying.

This wish of mine stems from the dream we once shared. It is powered by both lust and love, heart and hope. It is a moment in time that remains framed in memory and formed from the fabric of the truth that we wish was and not the fiction of what wasn’t.

Lost in a wilderness of wishes and wants I wander alone and uncertain wondering if the north star that once guided my heart can be lit again. Will you ignore my entreaty and defy that which we both knew to be true. That which once was can be again but this time bolder, richer, fuller and more rewarding.

There is a price to be paid for all that we wish, all that we seek and all that we hope and if you would but give me your hand I would pay it without question.

These dreams I dream and these visions I see demand a real response. I cannot extinguish the fire that we set nor quench the thirst that your absence has created.

And so I find myself still dancing in the fire.I burn and I ache….alone and apart.

Hand outstretched, sweat pouring down my brow I reach for you. I hold faith that our fortune was not fiction and trust that which was still is.

I cannot ignore this feeling nor pretend it doesn’t exist. I cannot, will not and shall not. I would rather fail and fall than fall and fail.

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Filed Under: Fragments of Fiction

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