Ashley Wilda

Author

Month: October 2018 (page 1 of 2)

snapshots

I sometimes think about how he

breaks open apples with his hands

or how she

smiles when she talks about the quirks

of her friends

or the way he sleeps with

the covers pulled over his head

how she papers her walls in pictures and never

curses in english

how he dresses in layers and always

tells the best jokes that never end

or the way she gets unreasonably excited about

that bagel shop back home

but when I think of you

I can never pick one thing

to remember

shouldn’t

I know I shouldn’t wait for you

but I’m here, way past the time

I should be going home

because I’m tired

body mind soul

tired.

 

I know I shouldn’t wait for you

because I know that seeing you

silent and ignoring

is a moment of better

and longer of worse

but I’m still here pretending

I’m not watching the door.

 

I know I shouldn’t wait for you

for a moment

a day

a month

a year

a life

because I know you might not show up

but since when have I done

what I was told?

 

I know I shouldn’t wait for you

but every day

I do it anyway.

crack

it’s weird to have people I can play with

people that pick me up and spin me around

when I finally catch a goal in frisbee

who train with me and compare biceps

and make silly faces

who play jokes and drink my red bull without apology

who meditate in the grass

and cuddle puddle in the growing dark

and stay late when they should be somewhere else

who play fight and throw me to the mat

and make me laugh

make me reach out with hands

that have momentarily forgotten

they don’t want to be touched.

I try to tell myself it’s only temporary

don’t get attached

one moment and this could all disappear…

and I’ll be worse than alone again.

but when she has a panic attack and we hold her

when she says I have depression and all he says is

me too

when we don’t want to go home and so stay

even after it gets dark

and I hear myself laugh even with all my heaviness

I want to believe that maybe

maybe

I can have this for just a little longer

maybe I can keep my door open

just a tiny crack.

keep them closed

we meditate, us four

feet in a square

lying on our backs in the cold

cold grass as the crickets

sing and a single star

appears in the fading sky.

she says to imagine walking

into a warm bright house full

of family

and I don’t imagine my own.

you hug me

and we are surrounded by

the people I knew as friends

way back when

and I am happy.

you and I we lie

in the dark

and I am not alone

listening to your nearness

and I never, never want

to open my eyes

to cold, cold fall dusk

and a dying sky.

castle in the sky

I’d give anything

to fall asleep next to you again

even if we aren’t speaking

even if we aren’t touching

just to look at your shape in the dark

and listen to your breathing

and let the nearness of you

surround me like a cloud

hey, you.

You’re sitting with your back to me, like you always are. I wish I could tap on your shoulder and say, hey, nothing’s changed.

I realize that this is probably the first time you’ve heard me laugh in over a year. I know you’re probably feeling glad for me and also have a little sinking feeling. Like maybe you miss me. I don’t know.

Tonight is a good night, just a few climbers goofing off, trying to forget the fact we don’t want to go home. I don’t want to think about the missing in my core, or all the thoughts and fears that will descend on me as soon as I’m alone, not distracted. But I guess it’s good that I can laugh sometimes, and that people don’t always look at me like I have two heads when I do. I’m still not happy. But I’m learning it’s okay to be grateful for the moments that make life brighter, even as I wish you were in every single one of them.

But this is what I want to tell you.

I miss you. I want you to have the best life you can have… but I wish you were in mine.

Whether I’m laughing or crying, near or far away, know that I never forget you,

that you’re everything to me,

and every day, I wish I could go home to you

because that is what you are

to me.

the game of now

today was the first day

I played frisbee

since two springs ago

it counted even though

I barely touched it with

one finger.

I’ve been afraid

to go back

I’ve been afraid

to move forward

memory and guilt

all tangled together

looking suspiciously like desire.

but today I learned

no silly dance

of feet on wet grass

could replace the warmth of our collision

the laughter of wrestling

for a spinning plastic disc

really just an excuse

to tackle you.

and no blue sky of today

no moment

could negate the forever

of those golden yesterdays

or the hope floating

in yet unformed tomorrows.

so when I get the chance to play

with a silly plastic disc

I will

and I won’t forget.

out the window

I watch her, just a little girl

sticking her hands out the window of the moving car

experiencing the world on her own terms

for the first time

figuring out that maybe, just maybe

the rules don’t apply

I remember when I too was just

a little girl

sticking myself out proverbial windows

experiencing the forbidden joys

of dirt on my skin

nights under the stars with strangers

the thrill of holding my body over the edge

weightless

ropeless

the reckless joy of being

my own safety net

the freedom of realizing

that maybe They, with all their rules

though well-meaning

may not be right

that maybe the song my heart sang

wild, so wild, beautiful and true

independent

might be the one

I could listen to

and not be wrong

only Different

and so I smile at her unexpected joy

this little girl, my sister

her hand riding the wind like

a small, young songbird in the breeze

trying flight for the first time

I smile and say–

stick your head out the window,

and see how that feels

she grins

and there she goes.

insomnia

rain pounding on my window

asking me to let it in

the rain is already inside though

it’s been raining where I’ve been.

smooth wings in my hand, dear

smooth brown wings

I know they’re only wooden, dear

but I imagine where they’ve been

small shavings forming

small ripples under

your fingers that have

touched mine.

just wings, just wood, just

memories, just hope

that steady me when from nightmare I wake

that solidify life that otherwise slips away

that remind me you were there and you

could be again.

I pray you’re safe from the rain, dear

I pray you’re safe from the wind

but I’m still knocking at your heart, dear

oh won’t you let me in.

(un)ashamed

the shame I put on myself

is often the hardest to shake

I am too much

too little

wrong where I should be right

one way when I should be another

abnormal

defective

weak

just not enough

in your absence

the affirmation of your arms

slipped away

and I don’t know how to love myself

accept myself

champion myself

nothing anyone ever does

will be enough

if I don’t see myself through the gaze

of a passionate God

then how will I see myself

as good enough for you

how will I ever laugh

cry

run

stay

choose

break

love you in your absence

look myself in the eyes

and say, I am worth it

I am enough

I am just right

just the way I was made

no need to feel ashamed

of a brokenhearted smile

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