moments past your bitter phone call
I sat twiddling a stick in the midst of the tallest trees
that I’d ever seen.
I sat thinking of the better days
when life was a sweet ride
and you were all that I ever needed.
The better days
before the mess of our relations
destroyed my sheer existence;
before the late nights kept me up to no end
wondering when you’d come home.
The better days before I was the one to blame
for every unnecessary pill that you ever took.
It was hard to find better
after our love was cut short
after you decided that you’d given up
even after you called to say that
maybe you would give this one more try.
But baby; now I’m in these woods.
I’m with the twiddled stick in the middle of the tallest trees
that I’ve ever seen
and I decided that the best possible thing
to do without you
would be to walk for miles into this forest
and shed all the clothes that you ever gave me.
I decided to bare myself against this barren earth
and discover if sunlight and bird chirps and sweet melodies of animalistic life
still exist without our love.
In the middle of this hike
I tripped, and fell
into the deepest cavern that I’ve ever seen
where darkness fears light so much
it won’t even let a single speck come in.
I tripped thinking about your last attempt;
how you promised to give it your best shot
and what that might be like.
But baby, would you traverse down this ravine to come sit with me?
Would you listen to every pitter patter of the rain drops
as they drip off every swollen crack?
Would you hold my naked body in your arms and sing me soothing lullabyes
while across this cavernous room
crows circle my decaying heart?
Because I would bet every dollar to my name
every dollar I could ever find
that the more likely scenario
is that I will muster every morsel within these fragile limbs
I will harbor every ounce of water that ever falls into this abyss
so that I can climb
the three-thousand, five-hundred and twenty-six steps out of this hell hole
to the safety of another world.
Another world where weeks later
I will walk past you on the street
while wearing your favorite sundress
with a wry smile on my face
and a mysterious look in my eyes
which will inquisitively send you
the visible whispers of my soul;
murmurs that will undoubtedly say
that my life is better
so much better
without you in it.
This week, I’m so excited to be linking up with The Chronicles of Chaos’ Write or Die Wednesday. As I finished the poem I wrote in response to the prompt “What makes you uncomfortable?” I realized that I couldn’t wait to post it. Because who has patience? Apparently not I. I hope that you like it, and, also please go check out Mia’s blog!!
I think about Pluto and all the vast space between me and that tiny ball of light once deemed a planet.
I wonder how exactly it must have felt to initially discover something new.
To realize that a small freckle of energy in the sky is not a comet, or an asteroid, or a star in a different galaxy
or an imagination, or magic, or the light from a stranger’s flashlight miles and miles and miles out
but something moving around our sun
so cold and far away
and how it must feel for the status of being a planet to be taken, permanently removed
even though it’s years and years and years later
and Clyde Tombaugh is now gone.
I wonder how many nutter butters it would take to line up from here to Pluto
and if I stepped very lightly on that peanut-shaped cookie trail
could I walk myself to the end of the galaxy and back?
Or would one misstep, the wobbling of my heart
plummet me in to a black hole, the endless darkness of the universe.
And without gravity, would I float for mere seconds
before gray clouds scarred my vision and my mind turned off forever?
when the world feels really big
I go in my dungeon, the vast darkness of my mind
and I pull the levers of my brain
to make the world smaller
which always, never occasionally, takes me to the front porch of an Ohio home
when my age existed in single digits, and I knew all my neighbors’ names.
There was one neighbor who had the last name of a type of bird
one that was consistently hard to remember, even though I always did
and one night when I stared at their house on the corner of the street,
where cars would pass by from the main road,
there was one car that careened into the front window of their home
and when the ambulances arrived, the red light blurred my thoughts
and I never found out if the driver was alive.
I think about the first time you held me in your arms
and how I trembled from the pureness of it all.
The way we laid naked and young
baring ourselves against the sticky cloth of a basement couch
when I thought about if life will ever feel the same way again
or will I be forever bound to the memory of this moment
when death feels like high school graduation,
and when you asked me, and I said yes,
and I wasn’t innocent anymore?
I wonder how I will one day leave this earth
and if it will be a car wreck, or a terminal illness, or a peaceful escape near my 98th birthday, surrounded by a loving family, when my last gasp of breath will be taken from me
and in those last sixty seconds before light from a world beyond takes over
will scenes of Pluto, and flashing ambulances, and teenage sex flutter against the back of my eyelids
like pounding rain against the window sill
on the day when I first encountered all these uncomfortable thoughts
about whether we’re all quickly living or slowly dying?
And even though I knew absolutely none of the answers to the questions I was asking
I walked outside to my car parked on the street
and started driving with the windows down
and the rain still poured
and my favorite music was blaring
and the wind in my hair felt like your breath
and I knew exactly how it feels to really be alive.