there is one absentand what is absent
is some piece of me
some part of my being
some connection
like an arm or leg
I can live without
but not the same
and there are days
I go to the cliff
face to the wind
and listen
there are days
I sit the table
with two cups
off-white
with a slight lip
and imagine
and there are days
I go to my closet
and reach within
to a rough wool
with a rough weave
and inhale
and then there are
the days I write
of loss and pain
and a suffering so acute
I cry and bleed
and wonder why
14 comments:
I sit here still. I minute ago you posted this. I wonder, did you write it one minute ago? Are you feeling this now? Is this fiction?
Let it be a fiction. Let it never be real for any living soul. Let us be plugged into some Nirvana, weightless, humming, never alone. Alone is sometimes too much to bear.
I will come for coffee in the morning. I will knock. It will be windy. I'll wear a scraf. It will play your nose. Later we will play soccer. You will be called for a team. You will fall often. Your knees will be stained. You'll be so pleased.
xo
erin
Written just in the last minutes. Very much it lives within me now. I wish I had the ability to write this way in fiction. I'll be waiting. Maybe even with cleats and a shirt one size too big. I won't comb my hair, not my style so you gonna get what you get. There may even be sleep still in my eye. But you will kiss me all the same and I won't have to ask and your breath will fill me, become me, a warmth in the cold, the softness of lips that know pain, have bled lost, of fingers that have held the wood lowered. And as the sun washes the dawning fields, your eyes will wash me of all that is crimson.
Very moving words.
Thanks Kimmie. :-)
How do I write the lone tear on my cheek that wholly understands and wholly feels the same?
I think you just did Aggie. Likewise, I understand the wanting/needing the talking to stop. I wanted to comment on that update, but it was just too raw and too close to home. I would hug you if I could, with or without boots.
Sleep in the eye becomes you.
Let us all
always
save one another.
xo
erin
As the lyric of one of my favorite songs goes: If nothing else, do something good.
I suddenly feel hugged....and it feels safe and nice...when that is exactly what is needed.
Aggie, my arms have always been here for you. As they always will be.
Leave here. Leave here and go to a wide open field today or a hilltop. Strip off your shoes and feel the earth beneath your feet. Feel its sponge take hold of you. Open or lift your shirt to whatever the elements bring you. Wind, sun, rain, cloud. Let it embrace you. Lay for awhile, upon sod. Close your eyes. Smell the world about you. Smell deeply of humanity, though you're there all alone. Then place fingertips to lips, brush light across their almost wet. Know then of a kiss, who knows your soul, as mine, and theirs. Witness your beauty, as we have. Then rise to its promise, Trée. Leave here today and find your way home again.
Please.
S.
How can I resist please?
What a beautiful poem. A beautiful picture too. You have a way with words...
Thanks Jasmine. This poem really wrote itself. The longing within needing, almost demanding, expression. As always, your kind words are very much appreciated.
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