To make me Feel this Way

Gonna start posting more pictures, & start being serious about it now. well maybe, been focusing on other stuff right now.

Their No You & I

A couple walked past me today, they looked so happy.

Frozen in state in the corner of my eye, i feel the loving tension between their eyes.

i know i wouldn't have you physically but your in my mind 24 hours of the time

Sighing i keep walking towards the terminal, it's dead blazing 6 AM in the morning.

the break of dawn seems to blind me, the process of my pupils shrinking turning them light brown

I take a seat, rule of the thirds, on the right, facing away from the sun. 

11 hours pass, i stare at this window thinking how many opportunities these windows have to give

i slip my hand in my pocket and take out my iPod, earphones threatening from my sleeve to my ears. I call it my last resort.

pressing button after button, shuffling and shuffling, trying to find the perfect song for my current feelings & situation.

i let out a heavy sigh and slowly tilt my head back to stare at those blue tungsten lights, what a waste. 5pm delayed flight, sun still up

theres no need for lights.

* Excuse me passengers for flight 397 to  SFO, flight has been delayed due to engine problems & weather conditions.

Fed up, i stand up on these two feet, beat pairs of shoes that provide the comfort for these sore heels. Step by step

i try to appreciate this human design, this knowledge only from God. a crave, more of a feen is needed for the moment.

I stop to see, after away from daydreaming, the janitor of this place trailing to my left, shoulder to shoulder. Face dug under the shadow

of his cap, he mops, just for the total of his monthly wage. He leads my eyes to a Starbucks a few footsteps away from my left.

Sudden recap comes in mind of the nostalgia my body seems to desire. The smell of those raw coffee beans makes me reminisce of that

Folger's childhood memoir of a commercial. I grin and laugh under my breath to be greeted by the cashier, " Good afternoon sir, 

what would be your order today?" Habit for knowing caffeine as to stunt your growth, responding "A zebra hot chocolate please, whip cream on top also."

The register shows up $3.15, i've come to know out of experience to already have the exact change for my daily drink, my alcohol.

a few minutes wait, no complaint, sun setting, it's like dawn but with a deeper orange. I reach between the skin beneath of the pavement

i step on towards my destination of death, i take 3 quarters out of my pocket and drop it in the bucket. 

Native tongues of Filipino's begin to form in my ear, and on the way out i pick up the word sagaba. Flashback where sister is sipping that rat poison 

between those lips. She blows a kiss and i resist taking that air in hurting my chest. Sagaba she says in Ilikano, it translates into suffering, pondering the irony to conjure up the fearlessness to find a conversation. Those thoughts of bringing up a conversation with you comes up in mind.

I can't stir the feelings of fear and talk to you, i'd rather not. I continue my walk back to square one, same spot where this stress began.

Passing the recycling bin, i drop the empty styrofoam shelter. I take my seat, no name, but my claim. I wonder what i will do when i come back, carry on and get a car and stop stealing the gas from the poor? A brother in the corner in nudies  all alone, marinating in a pair of broken half headphones, mumbling rhymes, same time begins to make me appreciate God's design. He reminds me of a smile in the back of my memory, i w0nder if i'll see her again, & if she'll remember me. I'm not trying to holler i swear but i've grown weary on how we just sit there and stare. Her strong resemblance

strictly strikes me with a pain in my chest. Rather breathtaking, i wonder if she'll ever come to get me. 7PM, an update appears to be on the screen.

I read silently, flight 397 will be departing at 1AM. How quaint, a few more hours, till i leave all what we had. Feelings of relief come through my

breath, but regret seems to ache through my jointed actions, giving the false impression of arthritis...tobecontinued

and i begin to walk to my destination of death. I look back, nothing. I continue forward to

the opening saying "enter". Weird how we live life forward but yet we can only understand it backwards.

Just my poem-story. i'll continue it tomorrow. not done yet.

by Karl Orotea (c)

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