I was a communication studies major and that has served me well in parenting and in the workplace; however, I fail miserably when I apply it to more passionate matters of the heart. I am fortunate that those closest to me know I talk best when given a writing challenge. Tonight’s topic: Perceptions
I am afraid what I perceive is not make-believe. Shards of green stab my heart while my brain screams no surrender. Brush strokes of erotic design play games with my scattered mind. I feel your hand upon my thigh but I cannot see into your eyes. And your lips whisper words I need to hear but your fingers play a tune that makes me fear. I am weak and that is not ill-conceived. But you should not have to pay the price for the debt of another.
How do you perceive me? An angel with a cage of self-doubt that keeps you prisoner? Or an escape route for the passion that you keep under cover? Layers of questions bury the truth that brought us together. Apologies do not do justice the plight as my doubt bursts asunder. Our grasp always seems to slip, but now I wonder – it is me that has always lost the grip.
I perceive that my perception is flawed and that is not make-believe.