Phoenix from the Flames

sea lost at sea
-------------------------
don't get too close
you're going to drown
i'm a wave
on a strange day
full of rage
and strange ways
in a strange way
it's happening...
the tide it runs away from me.
could it be?
i'm a sea lost at sea?
helplessly floating
boats while they're boating
laughing while they all
take drinks out of me
-jco'cv

I finish writing my blog post. It's a poem, if you can't tell. It's alright if you couldn't. I don't usually post more than once a month, but this is my second just this week. Something strange is happening inside of me.

Maybe I should ask Rex out for lunch. Not a date, just a meal. My stomach rumbles ferociously.

There's a knock at my door.

"Come in," I regurgitate. Normally, I wouldn't be so eager to let anyone into my bedroom, but society has played its toll on me. Society tells us to socialize; the very stem of the literal words are common ground.

"John," he says. He, being Rex.
Coincidence of fate? Sometimes, it's hard not to believe in fate.

"Hey, Rex. I was just thinking about you." Not lying at all.

"Wow, John. No need to be such a romantic." He smiles his sly smile and takes a seat on the old green corduroy couch beside the door.

"Rex, you know you're not the lady for me," I reply with a grin.

"And, how I wish that I was! You up for some lunch? Please don't turn me down. I'm desperate for a date." Rex pouted for the comedic effect and I couldn't help but let out a deep laugh.

"Say you'd like Chipotle and I'm in," I say as I gather my wallet and my phone.

"As you wish," he replies with a bow.

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"So, Rex," I say between bites of my burrito. "Your writing's been pretty deep, lately."

Rex shrugged. "I've had a lot on my mind."

I nodded and watched him chew his food. There was a crinkle on his forehead that foretold a pensive explanation, so I let him think.

"I've actually been reading this girl's blog a lot lately. It's like she's got a total grasp of the world and sometimes it just stretches my mind. Philosophic shit. Opens up a lot of questioning," he continued.

I nod. "PhoenixRising?"

His eyes widen in excitement and he nods. It's kind of a funny sight. Rex's cheek pockets a bite of his burrito and he looks like a squirrel caught up in the discovery of a stockpile of acorns.

"You read PR, too?" he asks.

"Only after you reblogged her. Who is she?"

He shakes his head, eyes still wide. "That's the thing, dude. Nobody knows. I bet she's like, some really smart and cute chick. I just imagine her being totally attractive. Not your average lady."

I smile at Rex's little crush. I'm a bit disappointed that there wasn't a cure for my curiosity, but now PhoenixRising, or PR, is all up to my own imagination.

"Easy, Rex. For all we know, she could be some 50 year old woman who knits with our moms."

I know she's not, though. Something deep inside of me tells me she's so much more.

Rex chuckles and shakes his head. "That'd be one MILF."

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I log back onto my Tumblr.
A post from PhoenixRising. I read intently. It's a really short poem, though.

With open eyes I explore the world
Stumbling upon unseen colors and uncovering hidden emotions.
But after I laid my eyes on the everflowing stream of blood
I wanted to close my eyes forever

It's funny. I feel like I know this girl. She writes about things that float around in my own head, but with words I could never string together.

Who are you?