update: i have been so awful and distant with everyone and everything and it’s because my last semester of school combined with ridiculous hours at work is draining me of any creativity i’ve ever had. i’ll be back, guys, i promise.
I had a dream that my life was a movie and they wanted to change the actor who played you. I stumbled into you in a grocery store and we both laughed and blushed and reminisced, but in the next scene, you were different- even taller, broader, longer hair. I didn’t recognize you. I couldn’t catch my breath and when you reached for me, I pulled away.
"Where," I asked, "have you gone?"
"It’s just me," the impostor said, "I’ve always been right here."
I woke up with my heart beating in my throat and reached for the calming reassurance of my phone; nostalgic, regretful tears stinging my eyes, asking me how I could have ever let so much time pass between us. I looked at pictures of you on the internet and missed you so much it hurt.
gone but not forgotten
Let me tell you about a life- how one moment it’s there and the next it’s gone, how you can be chatting with someone over wine one night and not realize it’s the last time you’ll ever see them. These are the little moments we take advantage of, the same ones we think of while we’re staring at an urn.
At the funeral, there are so many pictures that you can trace the entirety of her life in five minutes: a smiling child, a breathtaking young woman, a wedding, an older woman with her grandchild in her arms. It was a full life. It was a happy life.
Let me tell you about her life- she lived to be eighty-two and at the service, everyone had beautiful, heartfelt words to speak about her sincerity, her friendliness, her kindness. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room.
"I don’t remember
lighting this cigarette
and I don’t remember
if I’m here alone
or waiting for someone"
— Leonard Cohen, Book of Longing
oh, what a christmas to have the blues
there are a few lights on the christmas
tree that have burned out. i can relate.
i sit on the floor and wrap presents carefully,
trying to remain happy despite the storm
clouds overhead. outside, the rain melts
the snow and the unseasonably warm
weather settles in like a tourist in a foreign
country, smug and lingering.
dear santa, this year i’d like to drown out
this darkness that’s been following me
around like a shadow and bask in the sunlight.
things are warmer there. i’m tired of the cold.
i fumble on the stepladder and it only
takes a few minutes of maintenance to
make the lights shine as brightly as ever.
maybe if i try to fix myself, i’ll glow.