It’s just you’re Everything-
A reminder of every one-
I’m not blind.
Memories of patterns…
A new Want-
to be wanted.
No longer needing-
to be needed.
Growth comes in waves-
Big waves can sink ships.
What chance can we have?
You’re not calling me to sing-
Now I hate this phone.
A useless distraction throughout my day;
And I found my ring-
I’ve been wearing it since you’re gone.
It sits right where the lines began to fade;
I did all the dishes in the sink-
I’ve been avoiding them all week.
I don’t see the point for it anymore;
You texted me just to say g’night-
The text went no further than it might.
But I wish it had.
My seemingly loving efforts appear to have been~
regardless of my good intentions.
That stupid fucking realization:
“The grass only grew when we left it alone.”
And I then-
Well, I looked at my hands;
each rubbing the other like it would somehow bring the other- comfort…
and I flashed upon a memory…
a memory of my father~
wringing his hands…
Because there’s nothing else you can do when “rainy days and Mondays always bring you down…”
I wished that it was all gaslighting-
I cannot deny my own part in the fire-
that fire that burnt everything.
Everything we loved-
Everything we planned-
All the things we planted-
I am the common denominator who just…
Just brought it to it’s knees and then to a-
To a bitter fucking end.
And everything I thought I knew
and everything I was meant to do-
Was smoldering… kindling~
Left to mildew:
Mildew like forgotten laundry in the wash~
The kind you forget because you think you’re happy;
you are busy;
you feel content.
Then and only then-
do you realize:
you left it;
left it TOO long~
in the rain… and also;
On the line-
and now it’s sour;
That smell can not be washed out.
Sometimes I’m not really sure what the fuck I’m getting out of this.
I spend a lot of time- up in my head- trying to determine the motives why I stay here:
How much I put in vs
How much they take out;
What I’m learning vs
What’s becoming bad habits.
What’s mine to own?
What’s theirs to own up to?
Sigh. I’ve stopped the cycle by putting lipstick on a pig.
Bob Marley once said:
“You may not be her first,
her last, or her only.
She loved before
she may love again.
But if she loves you now,
what else matters?
She’s not perfect—you aren’t either,
and the two of you may never be perfect together
but if she can make you laugh,
cause you to think twice,
and admit to being human and making mistakes,
hold onto her and give her the most you can.
She may not be thinking about you every second of the day,
but she will give you a part of her
that she knows you can break—her heart.
So don’t hurt her,
don’t change her,
don’t analyze and
don’t expect more than she can give.
Smile when she makes you happy,
let her know when she makes you mad,
and miss her when she’s not there.
Love with your whole being when you receive love.
Because there are no perfect girls, but there will always be a girl who is perfect for you..”
I see it now-
Why you couldn’t love me:
The things I overdid.
The things I should not have done.
Like the pie-
What I saw as a romantic gesture:
A few weeks too soon.
Questioning my motives.
Strange continued reflections-
That at this point should be moot:
Strawberry Rhubarb learnin.
I never should have made you a pie
Counting the days you’d sing to me;
Learning the dance between our moods-
The formula of actions and reactions;
equations and the variables…
Balancing against days I pray;
to just be treated like a dog.
All the things shed-
to make way for new beginnings:
replaced by ectothermic forces
reflection no longer representative
of the self recognized by Id-
mortal coil bound.
long life lived
for the chance to repair-
the choice to revisit-
the future of a soul
in need of trauma repair-
like mercury retrograde
making all communication
futile; yet needed.
spiral spiral spiral
who do we see when we look?
cracked and distorted
through a looking glass, darkly.
How did it happen-
the only one alone here;
Me. Again. Of course.
Walking the damn line-
Praying for spiritual strength
And fast Benedryl.