I have had a hundred different songs playing in my head
Already
This morning;
All
While I sit and anticipate the rise of the sun.
I have had a hundred different songs playing in my head
Already
This morning;
All
While I sit and anticipate the rise of the sun.
And I never want to
Hurt like that again
So
I have been fearful,
So very afraid.
One step
And I hesitate, my feet placed lightly
As I hold my breath before
Pressing forward completely;
And wait.
Eyes wide open,
Telling my tears to stay tucked away,
To wait.
Wait a little longer.
It is not in my head nor irrational
For those things did happen leaving bruises on heart on skin,
Not happening merely once or twice.
Over and over.
In psyche I go deep.
Begin once again.
One step forward and breath.
Wait and observe, Listen and feel.
Muscles coiled around heart ready to retreat.
Consciously release tension;
Release grip on self.
Exhaustion sets in every muscle.
Stopping. Resting.
Replenish heart and mind
And begin again
With tomorrow’s sunrise.
Beauty and joy seep into depths slowly and lovingly
Replacing anxiety.
Sweet dreams start to outnumber nightmares.
Ever so tenderly reanimating hope.
Revive.
Forgotten windows and doors.
Rotten Wood
and
Rusty keyholes.
Spider webs and creepy crawlies underfoot.
Dare I peek behind the vined curtain?
Afraid to see who is watching me;
My legs shaking and betray my steady hand.
Hearing the echoes of heartbeats as I stand
Still and hold my breath.
Has time been forgotten
Here
Or is it merely waiting motionless
In the veil of between
Aching and remembering touch?
She asks how you are doing.
You have a short
Conversation,
The whole time
Her heart screaming inside her
Chest,
“I am so lonely.
So goddamn lonely.”
Her brain holding the dam straight and strong against
The welling of tears.
And she laughs.
She hugs you
A little longer than you feel comfortable so
You let go
And
“Let’s catch up soon”
And she glances to the ocean.
The ocean who is always calling.
And she thinks how much she longs to go to her.
“The ocean will hold me as long as I need
And stroke my tangled hair.”
She asks for nothing
In return.
“And i do not need to speak.
I walk on to where i need to go
Leaving the ocean for
Now.
She waits for my return.”
Her heart beating morse code,
Begging,
Wait for me. Wait for me.
He’s the in between.
Born on the cusp.
He is winter in spring.
A flower blooming in the frigid cold,
Not sure where to go…..
He shines a light all his own.
Smiles to share yet
He cries alone.
On gilded wings she’s watched
Him fly too close to the sun.
So here she waits
Ready to catch him,
Ready to hold him
When he falls.
Wings singed;
Heart-tired he falls heavy.
She sings softly now
Cradling him in the in between.
Sharing her breath until he can
Breathe on his own once again.
Paying quiet attention to the innuendo,
She feels the incorporeal.
She is a watcher.
And she waits.
Trust given too kindly has returned to haunt her.
Becoming an
Agonizing
Ache
So
Very,
Very
Deep.
So she listens.
She watches.
She waits.
My heartstrings are being pulled
To a place far away
Where my love does lie
In the field
And wait.
There are flowers
Of blue
And a rusty old
Gate.
My heart does
Go.
My heart does
Go.
My love does wait.