Author
Beads of new blood on my knuckles
The silence of crickets before dawn
Mist on the driveway, the lingering night
Tells no secrets
I wish I could slip through the mist
On muffled feet
Lie down beside you somewhere
Safe and warm
I ask sleep to welcome me back into its arms
The way it used to, curling up
Inside me, but only sometimes
It complies.
the chart asks me to circle how often
I feel this way
boiling all my emotions down to a bunch
of sterile numbers.
it makes me angry, this chart
because it somehow makes me feel ashamed
of being me.
in the end the sum just reads
wrong
and that’s all anyone will see.
she says I should talk to someone.
I say I don’t want to
I’ve done enough.
she says I’ll have to come back in a month
and I know I won’t show up.
a list of numbers I’m supposed to call
appointments I’m supposed to keep
all I came for was something
to make the days a little easier
but apparently you can’t get help
without all the baggage that comes with
well-meaning people.
I turn up the radio, pop-punk pumping
press my bare foot against the speaker just to
feel the thump of the bass
to feel anything but this.
don’t they know they make it too hard
when all I want is to disappear?
to not go through this alone?
my heart calls out where are you where are you where are you
I roll the window down, choose the next
louder song but
the volume is maxed out
it’s not enough
I’m not enough
I feel sicker than before I went.
I am sometimes afraid
that when you look at me
you feel nothing at all
when I am feeling
everything at once.
I am sometimes afraid
that when you turn away
it means that I’m not
worth fighting for.
I am sometimes afraid
when I let you walk away
that you’ve forgotten
all you have to do
is speak
and I will stay.
I say I think you know when you love someone
when it doesn’t matter what they can give you
what they do or don’t do.
it comes from knowing who they are.
he says that’s a cute
little
answer.
he doesn’t believe me.
I know it’s complicated.
I know it sounds too simple to be real.
but I’ve found it to breathe true.
and if you ever wonder when you look at me
if I still love you
now you know.
the river is my most constant friend
I turn to its waters before I would seek
the shelter of arms not yours
I still love it when it rages
it still loves me when I weep
I smile when its banks bloom
it harmonizes when I sing
I cast wishes on pebbles
fingertips find halves of shells in soft mud
the green wind song of the trees
holds me as best it can
cool water kisses my skin
reminds me that I’m awake
I speak your name into the sweet air
and it is not lost
a thunderclap booms like a gift
and I wish you were here to welcome
the warm wild wind with me
whenever I left you after talking into the night
I balanced the curb of the sidewalk on bare feet
arms out
toes pointed
suspended between my side of the street and yours.
it paralleled the way my life felt like a tightrope walk
one one side my faith
and on the other side, you
and I tottered in between, wanting so badly
to fall straight into your arms
and help you believe too.
even after silence began its reign
I still have been walking that cold, rough line
on one side loving you
on the other side living my life
and hating every step
made harder by wondering
do you still love me?
does God still love me?
do I still love myself?
just a little girl in the dark wanting to be held.
now I’m wondering if I remember
that God loves you as much as He loves me
intimately
and will be faithful to love you
and give you every opportunity
every day
to see him as close and real
and undeniable
then perhaps I can stop being so scared.
perhaps I can just remember that you cared
and might still.
perhaps I can believe that God
loves me wholly.
loves the way I love.
lets me choose to love.
never forces but asks.
and is proud of me.
somehow, impossibly
proud of me.
maybe I’ll come to hate myself less.
hate life less.
maybe I can walk this line without
skinning my knees and stumbling blind.
maybe one day this line will be obliterated forever
you’ll take my hand again
take the risk of a yes
and I won’t have to choose.
I wish I could perform an incantation
a spell to keep you safe
designs drawn in chalk on rough wooden floor
miniature rose-colored candles
the sweet fragrance of longing
something I could be sure would work
but of course such wards
only exist in magical tales
and recently I’ve become afraid
I’m not living in one
only you can tell me
it sometimes seems unfair
that your avoidance
the radio silence
doesn’t make me hate you
but hate myself
because as I’ve said before
once you really know someone
love them
you can’t
the third time I see you
I know you’re coming
the third time I see you
I’m there on purpose
the third time I see you
sobs don’t burst out of me
like frightened sparrows
the third time I see you
I’m shaking all over
as I slip past on bare feet
like my molecules are vibrating
with the tension of keeping
a universe of love and pain inside
I feel like a ghost
lost to myself
lost to you
projecting a face
only I
can see through
I need a locus
an anchor
someone to make
life solid again
yet these invisible eyes
can’t seem to focus
on anyone else