I’m not sure
There was ever a time
When idyllic meadows
Felt familiar.
Subsisting in twilight,
Inches from darkness.
An indistinct form beckons,
Sometimes less aggressive,
Always debilitating.
Moving toward it,
Struggling to remember
Who I am.
Trying to revive,
Relive, reproduce,
The past too easily
Becomes a disheartening
Disappointment, what promised
To be so magical supplanted by
A cold slap of reality,
Reverie interrupted,
Fragments scattering,
Never to be recovered
No matter how hard
One searches.
I can’t remember the exact moment
I gave up my self. Perhaps it was the
Day that importance and worth became
Quaint terms of impossibility.
The culmination of many years of
Foregoing aspiration. A sapling gnarled by
Withering storms, exposed, awaiting
The next calamity to be endured.
A gradual lowering of expectations,
Unperceived and silent evisceration,
Rescue me from the burden of feeling,
Ask me to be someone else.
They’ve been friends
For the longest time
And are enjoying a fun
Day in nature,
Climbing around
On the rocks,
Laughing, joking,
Sharing stories,
The comfortable ease
Of familiarity.
She loses her balance
And falls, her landing
Reverberating disturbingly.
He comes to her aid.
Unable to touch her,
Or show her how much
He cares, he utters
Awkward words of dubious
Reassurance, “At least
You’re alive!”
This was to be the day.
She sits in a comfortable room
Surrounded by trappings of
Carefully contrived gaiety,
A union of convenience
Slowly dissolving in a
Pricey crystal wine glass.
Memories untended,
Reality makes its presence known
In a million small ways,
The inescapable aftermath of an
Impulsive, ill-conceived
Party thrown by teenagers when
Parents are away.
If she closes her eyes for a
Moment she remembers the
One who really matters.
Each day he visits
The same store,
Hoping she’ll be there
So they might share
Some small talk about
The weather or what’s
Going on around town.
It’s been like this
For almost a year,
Smiles and pleasantries
Exchanged briefly.
They spend a few
Brief minutes together,
Talking about the weather.
Neither utters the
Words waiting to be said,
Depth being difficult.
Vulnerability avoided
One more time in the
Name of nothing rational.
They say goodbye,
It could easily have been
So very different.
She insists that she
Loves doing this
Soulless thing that
Makes her a lot of money,
Yet one can’t help but
Wonder whether,
As a child,
She looked at the clouds
And thought to herself
That she wanted to be
What she is now.
He writes something kind
About me and I, instead of
Simply thanking him or
Savoring the moment,
Immediately wonder why he
Didn’t say something more effusive,
Doubting whether I’m good enough,
The compliment rendered null,
Insecurity extinguishing joy.
