If it be your will

 If it be your will

Once I sought death kiss, a loaded 30-30 rifle and Johnnie Walker prayers, was my sanctuary of a hellish ending. I locked the door, I played the Jim Morrison songs and I fell into my madness. Love was sweet no-more, love broke me to a million pieces of confusion, love was turned to a meaningless emotion. I didn’t seek peace, I sought loneliness. I worked to pay bills and I faded way to a silent voice. I bled my words to journals, first words written, last words written. Dead man words, just whispers to the dark night.

On a Winter night in December, I sat with my Johnnie walker whiskey, I cleaned the 30-30 rifle for the hundred time. I loaded the bullets slowly and I sang with Jim Morrison. Once I was brave and loud, I loved to create laughter and to laugh. I learn too late. More to life, than me, too late.

Once I wanted to kiss the clouds, dance with pretty gals on the mountain tops. I wanted wealth and power. I wanted the sea, I wanted everything and some more. Now I need little and I love the silence. Was a very cold Winter, the snowy days and the Winter wind. Kept me safe in my home.

The 30-30 rifle sat on the kitchen table and the doors are locked. I took the phone off the hook and I poured the Jonnie Walker into a coffee cup. I drank to my brothers and I whispered. I hope you found better place and kinder people. I heard a knock on my door and I opened the front door. Pretty red hair woman stared into my eyes and she asked. Where have you been Johnnie? I called you a hundred times and you didn’t answer the phone. We were worry, I was worry about you.

I blocked the door and I told her. I am fine Leona, I am fine Leona. She pushed me aside and she wandered into the kitchen. She saw the rifle, the case of bullets and the many bottle of Johnnie Walkers, standing like soldiers on the floor. She picked-up the gun and unloaded the shells to the floor. Tear fell from her face and she picked-up the rifle. She turned to me and she told me. Johnnie, Johnnie, what the fuck are you doing?

I said nothing and she brought the rifle to the front door and she turned to me. She turned to me and she told me. Johnnie, Johnnie. You are not alone, please don’t kill yourself. She ran to me and she wrapped her arms around me and she was crying. I told her, dear Leona, I am so tire, so damn tire. Leona whispered, I am staying with you now. You will not be alone no-more. I whispered to her. What are we? Just dancers upon the dirt, just stealers of everything sweet and kind, we desire the things we do not need. Am I worth your time, kind and beautiful Leona?

She took me to my bed, she undressed me and she undressed. She forced me into the bed and she encircled me with her body. I could feel her heartbeat and her breath against my skin. Her bare skin she forced against me and she whispered. We will keep the doors locked and I will keep you safe. She sang some lullabies to me.

“Do we dance?

do we cry?

Can we laugh at the hellish days of life.

Can we live?

Can we love?”

Her gentle hands massage my face, massage my hair. She kissed my face, a hundred times. Soft tears fell from her beautiful face and she asked me. Do you want me to stay or to go?

I told her. If you want to stay, please stay with me. She brought my head to her breast and caressed me like a child. I want, I will dear Johnnie. If it be your will, I will stay with you till the end of days. I love you so and I want you to be okay.

Dancing Coyote