I should have known it was doomed
the night I came home
and all thoughts of you were interrupted
with thoughts of someone else.
I knew it was precarious, then,
that the excitement of this new
was overshadowed with
lingering feelings of the old.
Nothing ever realized, actualized,
but still in the background
all my hopes were given new life,
and you were lost in the undertow.
I wouldn’t have given you up for the tide,
but you cut yourself loose.
And now I’m drifting,
pointing my compass,
following that star
away from here
you never stood a chance.
I wish I could recreate you with pen strokes,
turn paper and ink
into blood and bone,
punctuation and diction
to muscle and nerve.
Death never seems fair
this sticks —
If I could write you to life,
spine become spine,
binding to skin,
margin and gutter
to sense and sinew,
cover to cover
your book would already be filled.
I would hold you in my hands,
feel your weight, your smell,
and then maybe
I could feel
that there is hope–
we are not all
I’ve tried to trap you in words,
tried to describe what it meant,
who you were
that never even knew you.
Regret that never
moves far from the surface.
If I could do it again
I’d probably be just the same,
or, maybe, sadder,
because I’d already know
In the hormonal hangover
I wait for the fog to lift.
It’s not fair, I’ll think,
as if I am making an argument
with the silence,
as if it should be fair,
as if I ever thought it would be.
I saw her ankles first–
thin and strong
rolled jeans and
Red, curled hair,
not natural in color,
but beautiful and effortless all the same.
Cool and stolid,
leather and cotton,
I wish to present to the world
I don’t come close
I’m constantly afraid
I’ll bore you.
I’m afraid I’m a terrible conversationalist and that you’ll find me shallow and vapid. I’m afraid of saying all the wrong things and scaring you away.
It’s so sweet that
you were nervous.
I was too.
I like knowing that, you too, feel
there is something
Long story short:
the sun will set,
there will be dark and
silence and separation.
it will come again,
and time will be yours
I remember seeing a phrase in a catalog when I was younger, etched into a bracelet, and it has stuck with me since:
“Sunrise, sister. It all comes back to this.”
I don’t know if it’s from anything specifically, a movie, book, or TV show, but it resonates with me a lot.
I always wanted to have a physical reminder of it, but haven’t actually seen it anywhere since that catalog. I also wasn’t so sure I’d want it on a bracelet anyway (I rarely wear them – let my arms be FREE), or on a t-shirt (I can’t wear the same shirt every day), or anything at all really. But it occurs to me, that something that holds so much meaning for me – and has done for years – could make a really great tattoo.
Just a thought. I love tattoos and have always wanted one.
This might not be such a bad place to start.
Saw this on Instagram this morning, and I swear, sometimes it’s as if Rupi Kaur has tapped into my world and knows exactly what I need. This was one of those days.
“i will tell you about selfish people. even when they know they will hurt you they walk into your life to taste you because you are the type of being they don’t want to miss out on. you are too much shine not to be felt.”
This also makes me think of pedestals and those who will try to put you on them. The only thing that can happen is to fall.
“when they realize how real this is. how much of a storm you are and it hits them. that is when the cowardice sets in. that is when the person you thought they were is replaced by the sad reality of what they are.”
I have been selfish. I think we all are sometimes. But I do not believe I have ever done this to another person. It’s not worth gambling an entire being.
“isn’t it sad and funny how people have more guts these days to undress you with their fingers than they do to pick up the phone and call.”
Who are these people that can be so bold and yet so spineless at the same time?
I have known people like this, but never seen such an apt and lyrical description.
I have so much love and adoration for Rupi Kaur and her way with words. And yet – still! – I don’t have Milk and Honey. Soon! Soon. I’ve heard such beautiful things about it; I’m really looking forward to it.
Til next time.
I feel like it’s time
I’m just biding,
until you turn around and, finally,
figure it all out.
That you don’t really care for me
as you originally thought
Premonitions aren’t always right. But sometimes, your intuition knows more than you do. Listen.