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'SURVIVAL OF THE TRUTH'

"TALKING TO ANGELS OF LOVE IN VAIN"

By Vicki Lawana Trusselli Published 3 years ago • Updated 2 years ago • 4 min read
LOVE IN VAIN ROLLING STONES 1972

This is a reflection of a true story in the week of the summer solstice moon upon arrival in LA June 16, 2016. Now I can reflect as I need to sing again, love again, and talk to my angels of light. I rode the train back to LA, through many miles over mountains and deserts. I kissed the ground when I got back to LA.

I woke up one morning

in a beach bungalow

in mourning

as my ex of many years ago

told me

a sad truth of demise

of our 11 year relationship.

It had to be

a word from the wise

red flags can hide

inside

a love bombing guy

or girl

of a swirl

of rainbows,

caresses and kisses,

then one day after 11 years

I cried many tears

as we were together but apart.

So he broke my heart.

But I was there come rain or shine

as we drank the wine

of yesterday's swine

of lies and the web of the dark,

moon of the monsoon

in the fishing village of a part

of the Gulf stream of the bay

of yesterday.

I t was long ago now.

I ask myself now,

"How did I stay so long

as I continued to sing my song

of light and dark

in the park?"

We meet a date

out of fate,

introduced by a friend.

So it would seem

that life works out.

That is what it's all about.

So I think about

the meeting at the grocery store,

not a bar.

How could I not see so far

into years of lies,

infidelity

to me?

"Not once did I leave

the crows nest of his demon bed,"

I said.

Well, after 11 years of tears,

I now think about the fun times

of our relationship of 11 years.

He smiled at me,

moving his stuff in with me.

Guess it had to be.

My black cat, Maggie May

warned me of his demon.

What'd I say

today?

I sway 2,000 miles from his den

of inequity of infidelity

of when

he told me

it has to be.

I packed my bags to move,

get in the groove

as he moved his girlfriend of 38 years old

into his den I was told.

Covert narcissistic pig,

I now have a new gig.

I am in my home near LA.

What'd I say?

Today

I remember those words

he said to me that one morning in May.

As I awoke to my light and my bird

singing to me as if to say that day,

sleeping with the enemy

I was.

He looked at me

as he lay beside me,

as our love was no more.

Making love

as it was a reflection of habit of the decade.

I lay there sighing.

I placed my hands on top of my head,

thinking, "Why the fuck am I still in this bed?"

He sat on the side of the bed,

raised his arms up over his head,

and he said,

"All I see when I awake

are demons all round me dear.

I look at you, and you have angels

all around you year after year."

I should never have slept in his den of demons.

I would rather sleep with lemons

to suck on

with salt

than expand in his reflections

of demonic presence of evil thought.

I left one summer day

arriving back in LA

on June 16, 2016

of the full moon of the summer solstice

of desire and a kiss to the ground

as I surround myself with all around,

angels by my side

at ebb tide,

the time of the solstice moon

of not gloom

as I sigh.

No more mornings with

covert narcissist of the width

of a football field

of despair.

The moon is bright,

the night

of June 16, 2016,

as my eyes gleam

with a pain in my heart

that has taken years

to look back without tears

in the angel of light

of the full moon of that night

back in LA.

The city of angels is my fate

as of late,

as I write

with peace, hope,

and love

to bless all

as I awake now alone

with the chirps of my parakeet,

Sweetie,

singing and tweeting sweet songs.

Written by

VICKI LAWANA TRUSSELLI

FEBRUARY 13, 2024

I traveled by Amtrak train back to LA with three suitcases in my possession. I had my laptop, my camera, and my Xbox. As I stepped off the train I looked around the train station in downtown LA, sighed, said to myself, "I am home! Back in LA, far away form the Texas cowboy."

I was 66 years old and it was devastating. I had decorated the dude's bungalow. All my love was in vain. My son told me it was my gypsy soul that carried me home and moving back to LA on the train. I called an Uber to take me to a friends apartment in North Hollywood.

So many stories to write about, life happens.

Now it's 2024. I still have a rock n roll heat gypsy soul of sorts at 74 years old.

Not afraid to love again.

inspirationalFree VerseStream of Consciousnesssad poetrylove poemssurreal poetry

About the Creator

Vicki Lawana Trusselli

I am 76 year old California mythic storyteller blending lived truth, technology, and sovereign survival into multimedia art.

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    Written by Vicki Lawana Trusselli