Old Poetry (8)...and then some.

I have not had time to figure out what I want. Time to grieve. To understand. I feel like I am being asked to live in reverse, and that is not natural nor humanly possible.

How does one erase a hurt?

It is impossible, I think. We can move on. Learn. Heal.

But when someone tells you that an entire painful portion of your life never really happened, you are supposed to open yourself up: wholly. Undoubtedly. Trustingly...and??


I suppose...no, I know: Forgiveness is the answer. Love is always key.

But when you have changed...

What do you do, when you get what you always finally wanted...and...it isn't right anymore?

What do you do if this is your only chance, but you feel weighted down? In conflict?

And you are still crying. Still misunderstood. Not ready. Too ready to go. About to lose everything...

Already lost.

What do you do?


...Tonight I found old poetry I had forgotten.

It was written only 4 months ago.

It still moves me. I feel it stirring. And yet...

...I am not now who I was before.


wirtten on July 4th, 2010

CROSSING BORDERS

Free...

I hate freedom.
Give me boundaries.
Give me borders.
Something I can at least
CHOOSE
To climb over.
Be a rebel if I want to...but...
But this freedom
This choice
This silence
I don't like. It is nothing
but
Emptiness. And echoes.
I want your borders.
Your warmth could be my boundaries,
Your arms could be my borders;
I could conquer whole worlds
from the safety of your love.
I could learn to speak your language and honor your customs.
...If you would only...
LET ME IN.