The Other Woman

I was hit on the back of my head by the devil in the detail, following my need to be sedulous and to do things quickly lies the demon of anger and impatience. It was time to begin my entanglement with my mistress, to do things slowly without balling up my fist.

You.

I heard the sound of her voice and I asked who was that, why is her tone serrated and why are her lips flapping like the birds in the sky seeking no deliverance.

It was the woman in the streets who walks through me.

I cottoned onto what was going on but I couldn’t stop it when I blamed it on tiredness and fatigue, conglomerating these tasks; never knowing when to take a break, she’s on me creating a storm where there is lightening and thunder.

I wish she would depart from me, I wish she was struck by lightening like the Berlin night club and that I would have a day without her whoring lips. I wish she wouldn’t take her clothes off to distract me from the real problem. Telling me that I am a strong woman when I work hard but neglect the gentle parts of me.

I wish she would listen to me when I tell her that she can’t control everything. If only she knew the need to control one thing leads to controlling everything she sees. I wish I didn’t try to stop him from picking his nose or hurry down a step when it’s dark out, I wouldn’t have sprained my ankle baring my pain in front a passerby heading home.

I wish she wasn’t me.

I wish she wasn’t there.

I wish she didn’t need me to breathe.

Are.

I can show you a good time, I’m smarter than any self help book you could read, just acquiesce to this. Give me your address and I will drag you to the avolition hotel, there you will sit for hours completely stripped of will, only the ability to breathe, depleted of any other desire.

Getting.

Slow to listen and quick to speak, stepping on toes and ordering everybody else’s feet, I thought I was walking upright but I was discommoding.

Closer.

Was her face to mine when she starts to mock me that I would do it all again tomorrow, that I would miss her perfume and the way she makes me feel when she walks alongside me and places her arm in the loop I left for her.

That I would follow her to bed when she would use my shirt for her dress only to then ball it up and throw it in my face, this is what I get for thrusting into places too many times that it has become a habit. Now I can’t enter any room without finding something to do.

To.

Sometime before all these afflatuses... There was a woman who was ruffled by the music playing outloud by a gentleman who was sitting at the front of the bus. I could conjecture that she had a lot on her plate and she too was affected by the other woman in her head.

Your.

She told him to turn the music off, after the last word, he turned the music off but sparked up a conversation with her exactly where they were seated.

Destination.

He old her that he was a farmer and that camel milk was good for her. He asked if she had ever tried it before, to that she replied, no. He told her that she was missing out, he held the conversation for as long as it would take for her to settle into a better spirit. One that would take in information and release anger to welcome in a new friend, a slower pace of reacting.

Just.

A.

When it was time for him to get off the bus, she was the first to say goodbye, he was surprised but he never showed it. Though he looked up at her then the words she spoke was registered before he went down the steps, he said goodbye and her day was changed, maybe her whole life too.

I couldn’t tell you how old they were or what the lady looked like, it would’ve been a crime for me to turn around at any point or even to look for too long at the man. I wanted only their eyes to lock and I wanted only them to write the story that only they could tell.

Little.

I wish to be like that man some day. To press my finger against her lips and calm her instead of allowing her to ramble on, tattooing grooves of impatience and cantankerous exchanges, the bitter truth is to take the losses to gain a happy medium.

While.

I wish to be like that man some day. To expect nothing in return for the suffering she put me through, but to comfortably coexist until the storm is over and we could breathe again.

Longer.

*******

Thank you for reading.