Life won't wait

 

(Source: Flickr / inhiu, via blua)

You can make a list, throw everything on that "to do," 

But no one will wait for you. 

Finish each step, and plot your course with care. 

When you turn around no one will be there. 

Hang on too long to relationships that don't work, 

or worse imagine ones that never were. 

It will hit you that moment when in one deep breath you get it,

  that the list will never end.

You've put your life on hold, and

waited too long.

 Choices have stolen dreams you thought would always be there. 

Imagined relationships will become clear, you are on your own.

You and your list of checked off task are your longest relationship. 

Try and crandle those in your arms. 

Do they look like you? Maybe have your mother's nose?

Nope, didn't think so. 

 

No Wait...

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I know you.  

You know me, remember?

That stuff you told me, I still hear it.  

It has latched into my internal dialogue. 

How are you walking away? 

Fist bloody from clenching can't reach out to you.

I see you, and I stay still.

You are moving on?

My knees are weak and tremble.

I am falling.

Strength, where are you?

I tell myself to let go.

Turn away.

Addictions are real.

Delicate things

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A frigid breeze is sweeping across the yard.  

It travels in from Canada or somewhere far.

The entire house sighs from the weight of it pushing against the brick.  

I sigh too.  

The North wind is heavy and thick.  

It holds.

I feel it release. 

The fear is different each way.

Tangled up in dreams of yesterday.

I am ready to pack all my delicate things; like

the robin-egg satin blue box with the ring,

and move away.

Its sharp red ribbon unfolds in flight.

The rain is coming.

Lightening blinds my sight.

Clutching the box, deep to my chest

my bare feet breach their dry nest.

The plan is to walk.

And to find where the storms start.

Maybe clean my heart.

When I turn 40

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40 will be declared the, "Decade of Mastery!"

My sassiness will be untamed along with my hair.

I will let curls go unchecked while I twirl in the rain.

Painful scars will no longer guard against the possible joy of each day.

People can talk and feel any which way, 

it won't affect me. 

Mastery.  

The ghosts that have haunted my inner thoughts will be thrown out

I will finally be a friend to me.

Hopes and dreams from childhood will be exchanged for

the result of choices I've made.

I will celebrate them.

Alone I know what I did. 

In solitary confidence I will celebrate.

This body is strong.  

This spirit is too.  

We rejoice its mastery.

I see you now

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I wasn't wise when you first came around.

I gave too much.

Talked a lot.

Blindly feeding you my secrets.

You ate them up. 

Then you rolled over.  

Your cold shoulder was sharp. 

It cleaved through my exposed heart.

Clutching it I held it out to you. 

Exposed and scared about what it meant 

You laughed and made other plans.  

  

Lone moon hung in the sky

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That lone moon hung in the sky.  

Darkness fell all around. 

Grass, tickled by the light wind, gave way.  

I sat there.  

Watching moon beams slice the night.

They didn't touch me.  

Only the single cool breeze sat with me.  

Together we agreed to solidarity.

Love leaves.  

Scratching and pulling like those moonbeams against the grass.

We all have scars when it departs.

The moon shrugged nodding toward the stars.  

The wind and I agreed acknowledging ours. 

Letting go is hard.  

In a single angry puff the wind whipped through the field

chasing his heart.

I look to the moon to feel less alone.

It is too late.

She has pulled a blanket of clouds shielding her face.

Tears fall as abundant as the grass in the field.  

Letting go.  

My soul says...

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Plato said we are one torn into two. 

Searching our entire lives, we look for our other half.  

When we locked eyes, I knew mine was you.