you with the crack running through you
I can seep in, I can dry clear.
And yes it would still be there.
And no I couldn't hold you forever.
But isn't it drafty at night,
alone in that canyon
with the wind of the mind
dragging its debris--
I wanted to put
my mouth on you
and draw out whatever toxin ...
--but I understand. There are limits
to love. Here is a flower
that needs no water.
It can grow anywhere,
nourished on nothing.
-- kim addonizio
I think I'm taking a hiatus for awhile. I don't know. all I know is, for the last few days it has been hard again, for reasons I don't quite understand, and I am so tired of it -- so tired of fighting off tears, so tired of being full up on remorse and longing and regret -- that there are moments when I truly don't know what to do. my body is out there in the world, visiting friends, running, smiling, treating people with kindness. my mind is there too, sometimes, but always there is you, you, you. I hate the weight of it so much I could scream, and I can't seem to unbury myself from it, despite my bravest and best of intentions. six weeks, and none of what has happened makes any sense to me at all, nor what's happening now; everything is a great mystery I don't know how to unravel. I still feel so full of love, and the unfairness of finding myself open like this at precisely the moment when it's no longer wanted is so hard I can hardly bear it. the math doesn't add up, and I'm tired of counting.
I both am and am not the mess you see on this blog. I write in my best and worst moments; though none of it is a lie, what you get is a strange collection of snapshots that add up to something only three-quarters true. many days, I'm OK. in some moments I feel fierce and full of promise. just not today.
you don't need to see me like this anymore. I'll be back whenever I finally trust myself to begin wearing mascara again.