488 Days

My neck cracks as a Zebra pen falls to the floor from behind my right ear.
The attire I wear is none to boast about, but we’re all friends here, right?
Moccasins, boxer briefs, v-neck, scarf PULLED TIGHT, knit beanie.
I’m learning to walk again and trust the strength of the uncertain.
The previous line pertains to both life and limb.

The Ember Days float pleasantly from behind this iMac monitor.
Tonight has been one of those nights and you know exactly what I mean.
It has been the type of night that comes into focus with a clarity that burns clean.
I feel like I have been here before, but I am assured that this is all new to me.
Another season has passed and I am left looking at the puzzle now complete.

I don’t believe that the last season has been a complete lie, but it has not been true.
Expectations never matched up with reality and no perspective could see different.
I’m content with who I am, but I have since lost my way and that started 488 days ago.
To say my life is like a movie would be accurate because I have the soundtrack to prove it.
My dancing stopped long ago, but the melody remains truthfully untrue as I smile quietly.

Letting go has never been easy for me, but this time something was different;
For some reason, this time, it all shattered as fast as it so awkwardly began.
Now mind you, letting go and giving up share no name.
There is a certain quality of humility in giving up and pride in letting go.
I’ve not learned to let go of my pride and tonight it remains wholly intact.

Hopes were shadows and mirrors became anything I wanted her to see.
All was true and all was truly an illusion of imagination; the slightest movements.
Nights we never spoke of still existed; things we ran away from still scared us away.
Reasons for me to dream may be the reasons you lie awake at night.

How beautiful life is when our greatest moment may be someones greatest mistake.
But there is truth that passes between the silence with sincerity and all is well.
I could continue to follow your lead, but the trail is dated and here lies figure eights.
I’ve seen this all before and there is wisdom in the second glance.
There is hope and there is restoration; between the two there will always be love.

You will always be you and I will always love you because that is me being me.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s