Indie Author

Finding & Creating Beauty in Unlikely Places

Month: June 2017

Thin Places

“A ‘thin place’ is a term that…in Celtic spiritually…refer[s] to places where the distance between heaven and earth seem gossamer thin.”

I have this text
from you
I kept
after things got bad
after I’d deleted the rest
too painful to remember
all I thought was lost

It was
the last time
you’d told me
you loved me
the last time
things were good

Since then
You’ve tied knots
in our elastic thread
more times than I
care to admit

I’m coming to the understanding
that I may never understand you

Loving you
has never been a choice

The only conditions
I’ve placed on it
have been unconditions
only that’s not entirely true
Because if it were it wouldn’t hurt
So fucking much to love you

My breath humming over
those knots in
rosary contrition
in prayers & poems & psalms
I hope will unravel them

If I’ve expected
too much from you
it’s because you gave me
what I wished for
a dangerous thing
for the inner girl

so used to conditions
so used to losing

You
are a faultline
all too capable of
breaking me
Either present-full overflowing
or empty
Either a tidal flood of your voice
cracked open
welcome at your door
Northern light calling me in

Or I have no clue
what you’re thinking

Now
The only person
standing between
Me & You

Is You

Which scares me
It means that
from now on
the silence will
only have to do
with me

I’m working on the breaking
on Balance
With you
I’ve always been lacking
You’re the only one
I’ve ever loved this much
with restrictions

I won’t make excuses for
Projections
all I wished could be
It’s been unfair of me
Maybe
to want or expect
adopting you into daily breaths
hurt when being your home
was borderline reality
a ringing in my lungs louder
when I’m empty

Emptier with every whisper
telling me I’ve over-stayed
my welcome
said you’ve grown sick of me
said you didn’t really want me
that my affectionate ways
Overbear
Suffocate

I’m piecing together shards
prying lose fingers clinging to
conditions

I stopped reading that text
these past few weeks
instead I content myself
to pray for you before I sleep

I’d rather wait now
For the “I love you, too”
I may or may not get

I’ll love you
better for that

For not reaching in vain
towards all I can’t have back

I can love you
just the same
from any distance
whether or not you
need me to

Whether or not you
Unravel our elastic thread
I still feel you
In thin places
Less like barbed wire
More like remembering
Home.

A Poem for T

The chains he beat me with
got nothin on these reigns
wrapped round my heart

I keep it on lockdown
Don’t feel quite warmth
or words you whisper
They fall on stony ground

Still I tell my nightmares
to you
tired
of bludgeoning demons with
blunts
tangling up our tongues
twisting sheets my eyes
are perpetually sleepy
but open

My ears eager to recognize
your voice in my night
when all lights
go out
like a permanent imprint
your sound
storm shelter

You
a melody I want to hum
but am
deafened by red rum
I never see his face
but am haunted nonetheless
I still hear him

Your fingers
trace alchemist constellations
up my arm
across my chest
down my pants
a down payment to the new
slave master

There are no victims
in victory
so I
keep these chains he
beat me with rusty
with angel dust cannabis
sunsets amber oceans

I bob like a cork in
the riptide of my
own making
I could rip me in half
so easily
with a laugh
and a shrug
and a lie

How the chains he
beat me with
got nothin on these
reigns wrapped round
my heart.

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