I can’t help but think of her when I braid my hair. And the day she taught me. Or the day she read me an angry poem about how I was stealing her identity. Funny how the interweaving of hair strands could arouse in her a fear of enmeshment. Meanwhile I was desperate to braid my hair every day. To give to myself what she could not: togetherness.
Whatever could be said
Of the two of them
Would not include
The true essence
Of their bond,
Nor what tore them apart.
The only way to look back
Was with fondness,
And a profound, incomprehensible yearning
That swept through them
When the full moon shivered
And the clouds formed tear drops
In the autumn sky.
All they could do was weep,
Or harden their hearts,
Whatever got them through
The dirty muck
Came home last night and sat on my bed.
Got to thinking about my purpose.
Felt this immense amount of energy begin to move through me.
Up my spine.
Out my head.
I saw the star suspended above me.
It’s inconceivable light pouring down on me.
And in the ensuing silence,
The words, ‘please don’t leave me.’
Rose inside me,
Came to my lips,
From a place deep within.
And I sobbed the nameless sob
Until there was nothing left
But smeared mascara running down my cheeks.
There is a wound in me.
And last night it made itself known.
Now is the autumn of my discontent
My being I
I being this ailing world
And within it
A speck called me.
Browned in vein.
To the tired earth.
The grey sky looks blue when you’re yellow.
I hope the rain cradles you
And makes you new.
I begin to think something, an inkling of something. Possibility. My potential capacity to actualize aspiration. I feel the edges of my unlived life and quiver at its magnitude. I begin to think I am capable of incredible feats. A life of health, wholeness, joy, and deep commitment. So what stands in my way?
Skip a life completely
Stuff it in a cup.
Family’s are subject to decay
Like any old element.
Memories become impossible burdens
On the soul.
People get lost in their dysfunction
In their own lives
They forget too easily
What was once precious,
And forgo it for their own reprieve.
Sand castles built in the afternoon
Will have washed away
When the stars come out.
The waves may look like glass
In the morning
But at night they rage.
They swallow sand and kelp
And images held dear.
No man steps in the same lake twice
For it is not the same lake
And he is not the same man.
Things do change.
If I am certain of anything it is that.
Not much can be done about it.
No amount of denial or effort.
You make the best of it.
And maybe internalize the pain
Take it upon yourself
That the family was destroyed in a fire
And the good times are draped in shadows
And you are not in family photos anymore.
And the beach grass smells like something
But you can’t remember what.
The sticks don’t resemble swords anymore either.
They’re just sticks.
And the water is receding
And so are you.
And if there is any silver lining
It is that mountains don’t move at all.
And they will always be there to cradle you
When your mother has died
And your childhood home has been sold
To a couple
Who made a sauna out of your playroom.
And if you are lucky you will not
You will find your solace in the moment
In the sun
In the wind
And your own inner strength.
You will live in a depression
But create happiness from inside yourself.
Your heart will beat stronger wherever you are
Regardless of the sunsets
Regardless of fig newton’s
Or fruity pebbles.
Your heart will beat stronger because you made it so.
You made it so.
You made it so.