Rain

June 30, 2021

I was a rainstorm

Unceasingly pattering

Against your window

With a gentle regularity 

That lulls one to sleep. 

I was at once too much

And not enough. 

You did not like the melancholy

Rhythm of my storm. 

You’d have preferred 

A flashing spectacle, 

Something thrilling and grand,

And I tried to be that

Until you realized the thunder

That accompanied the lightning 

Was far too loud. 

The way I loved 

Did not suit you. So

You shut your windows 

Against my downpour 

And sealed your blinds tight. 

There was freedom 

In your refusal to see me,

A bitter peace

In accepting that I would 

Always be both too much

And not enough. 

No longer did I 

Need to pretend

To be anything 

But what I am 

And my lonely deluge 

went unnoticed 

Until it overtook me 

And washed 

Everything out from

Under your own feet.

Union Divided

May 1, 2020

The tightest of bonds

Loosens, 

And bitterness fills

The gaps.

A chasm yawns

Between us,

Its air sour with

Stagnation.

You reach for me,

Desperately,

From your side,

Though the space

Widens with every

Apathetic flick

Of my erring hand.

I might reach, too,

But my arms ache

From the years 

Spent holding

Your pieces together.

Captive

I feel like a prisoner in this place. I cannot breathe, cannot move, cannot spend my time how I wish, without answering for it. 

I’ve felt trapped for years. I could not follow my dreams. I had to stay and provide a new world for someone to whom the real world had been so cruel. I did it out of love, and convinced myself that in time, when circumstances got better, all the love I’d given would return back to me at last. 

I see a life beyond it all now. I summoned strength I never knew I had to speak my truth. 

Let me go.

I repeat it in my mind like a prayer, I whisper it when I’m alone. There is no god to hear my pleas. The words spill onto the ground and shatter like a mirror.  

I feel no relief, try as I might to escape the storm that has overtaken my mind. My time, my effort, all of my pain for the sake of his peace – it is not enough, and it does not soothe the ache inside.

I’ve said what it is that I want. Very clearly. Yet again, it is his comfort that matters more than mine. 

I am not happy here anymore. I question if I truly ever was.

I don’t know, really, if I’ll find joy elsewhere. But I see hints of it. I want to chase them. I want to live knowing I followed my happiness, not that I existed miserably out of duty and subservience. 

I am told I am being held here for the sake of love. Made to pretend I haven’t been dreaming of freedom for months. Forced to smile in the face that I’ve grown cold to, or else watch as he dangles himself over the edge of self-destruction.

May 17, 2020

Strike

A forest needs a fire, sometimes. Dead trees and invasive vegetation begin to choke the fresh life attempting to bloom. A burning of the old, like a cathartic sacrifice, is necessary to clear a place for the new. Destruction is incidental. 

Destroy

It wasn’t a gift I gave you,

But a benevolent dagger.

I know who I am

And I know the choice

I am unable to make

Even if the thought of it

Intoxicates me.

If you don’t destroy me

I’m afraid I will destroy you.

My words are soaked 

In such sweet poison

That becomes more potent

The hotter the fire

Of your passion burns. 

I cannot stop the flow

Of my desires,

And if not subdued,

I’d flood the world,

Leaving indelicate trenches

Where deceitful castles once stood.

February 10, 2020

RECLAIM

Almost two years I have been silent here, choosing to wrestle silently with my guilt and pain and anger instead of giving life to my thoughts. But I started this project to give myself a voice. I have been held silent by the fear of upsetting those around me or inflaming ongoing conflicts in my life. The restriction is proving to be detrimental. There is no chance to heal if I keep holding everything inside.

I’m not sure I will still have an audience here, but the chance that I might is enough.

Listen:

All of this happened, more or less.

Dark Matter

It’s inside.

Somewhere, everywhere,

Wedged inside the brain,

Threaded through the lungs,

Suspended in the marrow of the bones.

I cannot see it.

Would I recognize it

Even if I could?

I know it’s there

For it directs me,

Guiding me down dim paths,

Bathing me in sinful waters.

I feel sometimes

That if only I could

Break myself open,

I could locate it and

Pluck it out.

But I think I’d find

I could not make the severance.

I would not find where I end and it begins.

I’d learn that without it,

I’d unravel.

White Pill (poem)

It’s so disorienting

To have thoughts so intense,

So consuming,

That you cannot help

But believe them,

Only to have them ripped away,

Silenced,

By a tiny white pill

And a ten-hour sleep.

What then

Is the truth?

Something Worthwhile

The classroom was restless, loud, and too hot. The commotion made me feel trapped, so I turned in my chair to face the wide window that overlooked the east side of campus and the lake. Snow piled high along the edges of salt-stained roads and walkways. Large ice formations clung to the lake shore and strong waves slammed against them. Just beneath the noise of the chatting and shouting around me, I could hear the sound of the water’s rhythm. I focused on it, letting it overtake my crowded mind and numb the anxiety I felt as Dr. C handed back our graded papers.

Stillness

I would stand on top of grassy hills,

Trying to see if there was peace 

Closer to Heaven

And stare at the blue above,