so what r we?
what is this thing we r doing?
i asked, but it wasn’t until i said
you and i are at a different place that
you agreed.
i said i will not be your fill in, your convenience.
you said u r not ready for anything else.
we r not dating.
ok.
i will not b in your holding pattern.
i have grieved long enough and am ready to begin again.
beware.
the yellow door is before you.
the person that lives here has been betrayed.
if opened, enter with caution.
love has been misrepresented, and mind bending attempted.
so i peek through the broken stained glass to see who is there.
i may allow you to open the yellow door.
i may not.
i am walled off.
no letting in, keeping all at a distance.
an illusion of safety.
no one comes around because they know this.
they know i am not available.
some days i want to let the wall down, but most days i don’t.
i miss u. i really miss u. even now.
when will i stop missing you?
if i could just know what was going on in your life, maybe i could move on?
but finding out is too risky because it would put me closer to u than i have been in a long time.
afraid of being pulled into your vortex again, unable to resist.
i loved u so much i let go of everything else.
when the whirling stopped, i wasn’t sure i could ever return to me, before u. i wasn’t sure i wanted to.
alone and confused, i searched for someone, anyone to give me a reason that made sense.
but there is no one but me to understand why i allowed your irresistible force to change my life forever.
i want the whirling to stop. stop. please stop.
i want a new spot to rest my soul. a place you have never been.
the princess and the pea.
restless. tossing. flipping and flopping.
strange dreams.
sometimes i come. sometimes i wake myself crying out for you.
i have a new spot now.
without your scent or memories of our lovemaking.
my heart aches less.
my sleep number is 69.
peaceful sleep. lovely dreams.
sometimes i come.
poetry – language chosen and arranged to create a specific emotional response through meaning, sound, and rhythm.
inspiration – the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions.
poem – the whisper of poetic surrender.
ifbychanceyouunderstand – the consequence of my poetic inspiration. feelings expressed as words carefully strung together.
perhaps these experiences sound familiar? or, you may not relate to them at all.
but…you probably know someone who would.
you do know someone who would.
take the time to reach out and let them know you care, even if you don’t understand.
for them, it may be the difference between life and death.
i decided on a whim i did not want to be your insatiable red head anymore.
after tears, and wine, and more wine i said “fuck you”.
now i am a platinum blonde. hah!
someone else will call me their insatiable blonde and love me as i am.
that is all i need.
i am mourning the loss of u.
my days are filled with grief.
night falls fast.
when will this end? when will i wake up to sunshine?
when will it be morning again?
i had never been there before,
both figuratively and literally.
i struggle to let go.
going to this place, giving myself to u fully and authentically leaves me at a dead end.
now where else to go.
no one else to go to.
u took me to that place, your special place at the waters edge
and i knew then we were to be.
i pressed my body against u and whispered my epiphany in your ear.
we became an entangled mesh of love and life.
unexpected, unimaginable, unbelievable.
somewhere along the way the water became murky and cold.
we could not see or feel each other any longer.
we believed in “us” as long as we could,
but were unable to return to the waters edge.
ifbychanceyouunderstand 