Good Drugs

Words In the Wind

Listen to song "Fallible Creature" by Scott Quinn
"Sometimes, in the dark, we find ourselves,
and most times we are scared of who we see" - Joyce.

Despondent.

The soft patter of dreams fell in a soothing trance of melancholy against the roof. The downpour of anguish whistled in the wind, vapid and steady like a stream.

Bolts of lightening streaked it's golden light against the Aquarius blue heavens. I felt the heat against my bones, like a love that was obsolete.

There were storms within us.

My ears were rang, as my brain scrambled to decode the words that logically made sense, but didn't fit my perception, or reality.

"I'm a drug dealer!" Dean sighed, collapsing from exhaustion as if this truth was heavy.

I couldn't look at him, as I fought a wave or rising emotions. Remnants of regret filled my lungs, and suddenly I was aware of how big my heart was especially when it collapsed.

It amazed me how Dean could be as gentle as the wind that picks up the pages of my favorite story, turning them with such levity, and yet be the gale that crushed me with anguish, ripping me to shreds.

I never knew being human could hurt so much.

"Don't cry" Dean begged, as his hand reached out to caress my stitched face. It was stiff because even as the tears flowed I'm smiled, caught in a vortex of love and hate.

Part of me always knew, but for some stupid reason I kept believing in something greater. We always know the truth, but love makes us see the best even if it's poison.

Dean Russo brown eyes, recited a tale that time had said since the beginning, "I'm sorry" he whispered.

I felt his shame, as he tried to mend my heart ache with meaningless candor.

"Say something Cleo" he pleaded, crushing my fingers in his.

The house groaned, tiny creaks rattled through the plumbing as the wind whistled a hollow melody. The words slipped from my lips fleeting into the emerald city that Gatbsy saw before he realized it was a lie.

I bit my lip, aa I held back the forces of a rainstorm that threatened to consume me, even under the strong bridges of my eyes. I wasn't holding back my tears, just trying to learn how to tread in them.

I grabbed Dean's hand, leading him outside. He followed with little resistance.

As we walked, a light breeze carried his October spice scent. The musk and deep layers of a man that drove me to him time and time again, such a euphoric smell, but now all it reminded me of was dead roots and cold memories.

I could feel my eyelids growing heavy, as we sat down to talk on two dust covered stools. Goosebumps adorned my skin, although the night was warm like tea and honey.

I bit my nails, my teeth getting as close to the skin as my anxiety would allow. Even hidden in the cloak of the night, I'm sure my face expressed my distraught.

Dean rubbed my back, "Cleo...." he struggled, his words more complicated than knots.

There was so much more to this that Dean had yet to explain.

He cleared his throat nervously, "I did this all for Maya," he justified.

"Bullshit, you can get a job like a regular person!," I insisted.

"No, because Maya's my daughter, who I kidnapped kind of.., I made the best.." Dean explained quickly.

"What?!" I shrieked, my head spinning with confusion.