I sit here again next to you at this table that I have not seen in these many years the details just as I always remembered them to be the orange glass separating our drama from the table next to us separating our lives from all those drifting around us that was the beginning of my expulsion from childhood
and here we are again, still here in this world that you tried to create for me and then left me in like a pretty trophy to think about the things that I should have done and to regret the things I should not have said I’ve been here for so long, awaiting your return but, now, my baby, you have gone and finally, I can see that the pain I once held for you, coddled, and kept alive for you, has turned to dust in my hands
you wanted to see me in this place once more but I had to beg you to leave me be, and then I came alone to sit here next to your ghost I turn to look at you once more, and then I ask you to please leave me be whispering while the orange glass behind me turns my skin into a mosaic of flesh-tones lines that creep across my face to mask the tears that I refuse to shed this time
I don’t miss you love, I don’t need you love, I no longer hurt for you
I don't kiss you when I sleep and I don’t wish you were here with me
I don't think of these things that used to be so very dear to me I don’t dream of your arms that used to hold me
I don’t want you anymore, I don’t need you anymore, I don’t want you I don’t want your pain and you can take this game and find some other child to mold into your ugly version of womanhood.
I don’t need you in order to feel this ache in my heart I do that just fine on my own now.
"find some other child to mold into your ugly version of womanhood." Genius. Loved the form following function, too: the words dripped and slipped away.
I agree with Sue. You seem to have come to a resolution and gained an inner peace you may not have had before. Ghosts are scary, but the good thing about them is you can leave them in the past.
For a time, I perched myself on a flat rock, comparing my life with the Guyandotte River. Just as its tributaries replenish it daily, changing it in some small—sometimes great—degree, so have the day-to-day occurrences of life changed me. Like the ri
(Richard M. Feldman) Ever since I was a young boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. I wanted to own and work on a real ranch, with cattle and horses. Especially horses.
While I never became a cowboy, considering everything I have done
For a time, I perched myself on a flat rock, comparing my life with the Guyandotte River. Just as its tributaries replenish it daily, changing it in some small—sometimes great—degree, so have the day-to-day occurrences of life changed me. Like the ri
exceptional scribe...hell of a release...
so much love,
**Mari**