On Moving Forward

“It was strange, really. A couple months ago, I had thought I couldn’t live without him. Apparently I could.”
– Gabriella Zevin

Red Moon

So I went out in the rain
To find this red moon
I didn’t see it but I’d be lying if I didn’t say
I danced a little

I found my way back to bed
And thanked my lucky stars
For this beautiful life.

I Didn’t Even Say

What was it then

The thing you thought you heard
The thing that spoke to your heart?

Maybe it was too long ago
Maybe your memory is faulty like mine
Maybe (yet again) I’m asking too much

I dont know,
I dont know,
I dont know
but I think you heard hope.

Those Things You Left Unsaid

Maybe it’s what you didn’t say
Maybe it’s what I didn’t want to hear
or maybe,
Maybe our lines just got terribly crossed.

I stayed on hold far too long.

I don’t know the ways to express
this feeling of being left or being gone
and how it mixes with this feeling of being right or being present

Its all mixed up, I’m all mixed up

All I can say is that
This time
I know it’s done.

La Lucha

What but if I finally could?

What to be gained? What to be lost?
I’m losing myself here, you know.
And yet, here we go again and this, another round of
Left hook, right cross and your undercutting words.

Yes, I accept that I’ve got the gloves and I’m in the ring
(I do like the feel of these satin shorts)
but its been an unfair fight and I’ve done all I can
From here, it looks like a title bout with no victor

I see the future as has been the past:
I’m worn and I stumble.
I tumble down and you pick me up
A few moments of calm in corners
Until we’re back in it again
And again and again.

Este campeonato sera tuyo
Realmente, siempre hay sido
Ya no tengo lucha
Mis brazos golpeados
Mi corazon quebrado
Ya es bastante
Solo espero tener la fuerza para tirar la toalla.

I just hope I have the strength to throw in the towel.

You Say It’s Her Birthday

Today is her birthday

A child bride, married at 15.
She was 48 and a grandmother by the time I was born.
It was forever ago I was born from her womb.
And I’ve learned so much in this forever.

Which way?
I’m not sure anymore which way is up. I get scrambled and tangled too often.
What exploration, what matter, what the fuck is the need to ask the questions I cannot answer?

Maybe the moon knows, maybe Sonnabend knew, maybe somewhere (I’d like to believe) I know.
Who knows.

I rarely do.
I leave too early
I stay too late.

I staccato through sentences
I stammer, I ramble.

And the leaving is always the hardest.
Fall fast approaches