When I said I had to leave I meant:
these 13th floor windows look too much like doorways. I meant:
I'm a fish drowning in all this air.
When I said I missed you I meant:
you are my water, my ocean, my sweat,
tears and blood, meant
everything smells like metal since
we said goodbye.
When I said it had been too long I meant:
time had become a foreign language.
I meant every number rhymed
with "alone."
When I said I needed to take a lover I meant:
I know no other names but yours.
I meant: every graven idol
eventually crumbles before God.
1 comment:
Your blog is still here
You're still here, me too.
Thank you for writing and sharing your experience. I read August and September and am appreciating your words right now as I sip my 1st cup of coffee this early morning.
It's been a handful of years since I have read your beautiful and generous descriptions of life events and relationship to and understanding of your emotions. I don't really have much of anything to say, except hi.
I don't have any words of comfort really, just I'm here and you're here and that is comforting to me. Thanks again for sharing your honest struggle. I will always love you, in part because you are you and the fact that you are enough reminds me that I too am whole, regardless of what my self-talk might have to say about a fractured view of hope and desire and lack of clarity at times. Coffee is cold now but my thoughts and feelings are heating up - yes, please and thank you
Post a Comment