Yes,
I want to walk and run
and breathe in the air
and play or live in the moment.
Wait, no.
I want to live for the moment
and be about this,
instead of simply
“talking” about it.
“Let’s just do it!”
Right?
Okay then,
here’s what I’d like . . .
I want the morning
to be like that first day we had in spring,
remember?
This goes back to when we were young
and small
and the New York winters
decided to let go.
Then the sun came out
and I want this again,
that feeling, I mean.
I’m talking about the feeling we had
after the thaw took place,
and the world was green again,
and fresh,
and days like this cause the sky
to be clear
and blue.
Do you understand what I mean by this?
I think that ,above all things,
the one thing that everyone wants is to be happy.
I think that above everything else,
we all want to live and breathe
and laugh and love.
We want to be free
and not just free from some kind of
social bondage or unfair captivity.
No, this is deeper than that.
We want to be free to laugh
at whatever it is
that makes us crack up,
because everyone needs
a good belly laugh.
I know I do. . .
I want to be like it was when the world changed,
and the winter decided to let us go.
The air became warm and the sun showed promise
that soon enough,
the summer would be here, and
the days would become longer and lazy,
and beautiful.
I remember the sound of little kids
running through sprinklers on their front lawn,
and how their quaint little lives
were suburban and safe.
I remember their high-pitched shrieks
when the cold water hit their skin.
(I just smiled while thinking about this.)
I remember the sound of laughter
and happy screams. It was fun then,
to be a kid, or to be free enough to laugh and play,
which is what brings me here now—I want to play too.
I want to be young again
at least at heart, if nothing else.
I want to laugh. I want to have fun without restriction
or to be myself without the worry
that perhaps my smile could be crooked
or that my laugh could be unordinary
or uncool.
See?
There are so many beautiful things
which can be taken away
or shown to us in an awkward light,
to which I see this now and I saw this then;
however, I never had the balls or the bravery
to admit this—but now,
or at this moment, this is not about bravery anymore.
No, this is something bigger to me.
This is about the need to run and play or
if I get the chance,
I’d like to be childlike
and run around like we did
when it was free and cool
to be childlike
and play.
This is about the need and the want
and the drive and the desire to be free again,
or to laugh again, or to play a silly little game,
or to do something daring,
like on a rooftop, say, for example
“just to say we did it,”
and to keep young before age pulls us away
or time creeps up and we awaken to an eye-opening idea
that somehow—we have been fed a pack of lies
and a series of mistruths; and that the truth is
we always had exactly what we needed but
we were just too afraid to see it
or too afraid to believe
that the answer was truly this simple.
I want to be beautiful.
I want to be a kid again, at least in my heart.
I want to be pure. I want to be colorful.
I want to run or laugh, or dance—and God, yes,
I really want to dance and not care who is watching,
or to dance in the rain,
like to dance in a downpour
during a hot summer’s afternoon
or to be so wild or so swept away
that in the event of all-out tragedy,
or in the grimness of sad news or the finality of life,
I want to be sure that I make my way
before my final curtain closes
because when I look back
the only thing I want to see is you,
My Love.
I want to let go of all the the lies in my head
or the mistruths which are the lessons
we picked up over the years,
that told us inaccurate assumptions about our beauty,
or the lack thereof;
when, in fact, the two of us together
could never be ugly.
Not even if we tried.
There are only so many people in this life
who we can trust or be pure with.
And there are only so many people
who we can connect with
on any given level—and since time is ticking
and life is only a short moment, then here I am world.
Or, here I am God,
down here where you put me,
and here I am “self!”
I’m daring the Heavens.
I’m daring myself too
as if to scream,
What the hell are you waiting for?
Ask her . . .
Ask her to dance.
Here I am world,
alive and awake and aware that time can be easily wasted
and therefore, it would be better
if my time would be greatly valued, like say,
by allowing myself to seek the moments
and remember the good things
instead of the bad.
Why waste another moment?
Why waste anything?
I want to be in the light of day.
I want to go and walk down the street
and be free to laugh.
I want to have you too, my love,
and to walk with you by my side
and be proud as ever, shoulders back,
chin held high, and since you’d be at my side
my eyebrows would lift without the burden of stress,
and as we stroll along or walk somewhere,
maybe down by the beach or on the street,
or literally, we can be anywhere,
I want to find myself in the perfection of the moment
and show you off, like my trophy because in my head
and in my heart,
what have I said or done
to deserve someone as beautiful
as you?
I want to walk with you
and talk with you
and feel love or be so happy
that we can build a memory
and that if given the chance or the choice,
I would relive this moment,
exactly as it was.
(without changing a thing!)
I can say that as people,
there are very few moments
in which we can say that, if possible,
we would like to relive a moment exactly as it was,
and without changing a thing—and that means
not asking for any extension of time
or moments to be any different.
There are only a few of these moments that I can recall
But I want them
and I want more of them
and yes, of course,
just in case you haven’t noticed
I want them all
with you.
So, what?
I’m love sick
Okay
At least I chose to be brave enough
to believe in hope and to stay away
from words like “never.”
Right?
I’m learning.
Aren’t I?
I have not had many of these moments.
And I mean moments that are that perfect
to be lived again, unchanged.
But what I have is this place in my heart
which is like a tiny storage box,
or like a shoebox of tiny gadgets and
treasures that we keep as kids.
I have this place in my heart
to which its contents are scattered (at times)
and although I call this tiny,
I can say that its ability to store is endless and limitless,
which is what I am here to ask for
(or offer).
I want to build more moments
and create more memories
that can be exactly as they were
and not wish to change a thing.
I want to create more memories,
like the way we share food,
or make love in some uncontrollable way.
I want to create our own language
or the way affection can become our language.
I want this
and more.
I want to create our own language,
which is something that no one else
could ever understand.
In fact,
I think we should because, and let’s face it,
the world can often be an unkind place
and people are not always understanding to begin with.
There is judgment all around us,
everywhere.
But in the right places and with the right person,
there is no such thing as right or wrong.
There’s only the freedom to explore
or to laugh or to hear the music . . .
So we can dance.
I can say that I want more, which is obvious,
I can say that I hope more,
which is what this book or prose is all about.
I can say that I am here for more
and that I am working and learning ways
to recreate the stage
or to set up for the next chapter
or the next scene because if given the chance,
or the choice,
my next plan of attack
is to build the life that I have always hoped for.
I know that we can be beautiful
I know that the colors of our life
can be muted by whispers from the past.
And I know that there is love.
I know there are dreams and desires and aspirations,
and pictures and memories
that we can build upon, because above all,
I know that deep down, I have the foundation
to which we might’ve had bouts of weakness,
but obviously, we are far stronger than we believed,
of course,
especially since you and I are still here.
And that means nothing can stop us.
Except us.
I don’t want me to stop me from anything
or living ever again.
So, before I close,
I will close with a simple truth –
I know where my insecurities came from.
Only, I don’t know why I allowed them
to stay around for so long
like some unwanted guest who never leaves
when if fact, I could have always said
don’t let the doorknob hit ya
where the Good Lord Split ya!
I don’t know why I entertained weakness
over my strengths.
But . . .
It’s amazing how we question ourselves,
like for example—the way you doubt your beauty
or whether you are “enough” or not,
and then here I come, in total disbelief
or shock . . .
thinking that I am hardly as beautiful as you are,
and that I am not even half as smart
or as brilliant, and yet somehow . . .
You love me?
Really?
All I see is the twinkle in your eye . . .
And sometimes, regardless of whatever took place;
the look you give me is enough to make me believe
that perhaps I believed the lies for way too long.
I believed in the remnants of what
my personal and previous bullies left behind.
The one thing about people –
I have to say it,
we can make people laugh and smile,
or frown and weep.
But you . . .
You make me feel everything under the sun
which is colorful to me
and beautiful
(just like you)
So, please, if I may
let’s disperse the lies
and let’s let go of the old chapters.
Let’s learn to live and laugh some more
and if, or whenever possible,
let’s let the music play
to create a memory
hot and erotic and sweaty
and let’s let the heat pick up
so we can sweat and dance
and make love more wildly
in ways that are hotter than the surface of the sun
and more beautiful than the moon
when it glows down Ocean Avenue
I’m here though.
Waiting, with hat in hand
cross my heart
But, I don’t hope to die.
I swear it
with hand to the sky
that I cannot promise
what I cannot deliver
But I can promise you this:
ME!
By the way, hot lights
and Salsa music,
you in a dress, and me dressed up
and ready to swing.
Maybe the first song would
be enough to get the blood going,
at least I believe so . . .
I suppose in my dreams
it would go like this:
Suavemente, bésame
Que quiero sentir tus labios
Besándome otra vez
Basically,
the translation is
Kiss Me Softly
I want to feel your lips
Kissing me again.
It’s the last line that gets me –
Kissing me again.
yeah. I want that too.
Do you?
The Written Addiction 