Tag Archives: letting go

Choices

How do you wait for the one
who speaks of love, but
leaves you lonely, behind
while he pursues his dreams
and coarsely reminds you
that you weigh not heavy
enough to comprise them-
that what he wishes to do
will no longer involve you;
he chooses to travel alone
over returning home
to spend what time could
be spent holding you?
You just learn to move on too.

On Restarting Failed Hearts

The familiar routine
of house cleaning
as this cycle repeats,
almost expectedly.

Erasing the stains
of what is now past,
trying to get back,
get past just existing.

Desperate to recall
routines before the fall
but they are senseless
unfamiliar, impossible.

Only way is onward
through new days,
until one by one
they ease the pain.

Jumping Ship

Took a chance
to launch our boat
in Fall’s colder water.
Surprised,
we sailed smooth
watching stars
swoon over the moon
until we too fell in love
with the calm breeze
as we drifted
closer in heart but
farther out to sea.

With but short warning,
a storm surged,
rushed upon us
ripped sails to shreds.
Disorienting swells
battered our hull,
boards groaned
threatened to snap
to send us
flailing blindly,
gasping for life
straight overboard.

Then, just as fast
the storm passed.
Rough waters receded,
dark skies retreated.
But, light revealed
a me without you.
Life got a bit rough
you fled, lost faith
bailed on us when
I needed you most
to make it through.

Priority One

This internal agony
must be the difference
Webster meant between
enraged versus out-
choosing to hold in the pain
when I just want to scream.

My composure I hope to keep,
will try my best to speak calm.
I pray for sound nights’ of sleep,
no weeping while you are gone
not for your sake, but my own-
and, alone, I hope to grow strong.

So, no promise can I make
to be at peace in second place
while you go your own way.
You have your road to take,
freeing me to travel my own-
and I am making me priority one.

Costume Change

Your comfortable space
wholly encroached upon,
illegitimately consumed,
by such festering wound
demonstratively oozing
about your every move.

Now, no alternate choice
but to operate, amputate
the contaminated limb
before infection spreads
wearing you thin, hollow-
a new costume for misery.

Taking Strides

I said time and again
that I was letting go.
But, I flat out lied,
and still held tight
to the memories
I could not undo
much less relive.

Crying aloud while
dying inside and
fighting madly with
all who honestly tried
to help me see,
clearly, why I must
move on, completely.

I refused to listen
to reason and sense.
I beat myself up
any time I lost sight
of you in my dreams
or gave up your lead
to anyone new.

But someone worthy
of receiving my all
was nearly pushed
to the edge and lost
by my selfish denial.
So, I simply cannot do
this any more, with you.

It is not you holding on
but me, much too strong
to this delayed goodbye.
I have waited so long in
the shadow of your wake
so you keep old dreams
as I live for me, today.

Can’t Let Go of One Thing by Holding on to Everything

Quit painting upon such soiled canvas,
layering these unresolved disparities,
adding ferociously to their weight,
day after day, committing yourself
to such fate forever strapped to this lot-
problems the rest of the world ignores
are the ones you wear yourself thin
worrying about, but still cannot control.
And the ones you maintain, cling to,
contribute to the unsightly stain of pain,
and grow ever more insignificant in time.
Yet, within their shelter you still reside
suppressing happiness with the pride
that you are strong enough to hold
these insecurities high above head-
when, in truth, it is under them you hide.
You let them suffocate you, choking,
stealing the breath you take for granted
and life you carelessly, barely survive-
drudging on with misguided contempt
for a world that has done you no wrong
but it owes you, you’d certainly exclaim
for the great service you lay claim to
by personally taking on these burdens
when no one ever asked for you to.
For these works you cannot stand tall,
but, should you refuse to give them up,
to not let fall from your wearied back
this twisted heap you have amassed
by subconsciously living in the past
and feeling sorry for only yourself,
then the world cannot for you fix
what you choose not to try to undo.

On Selfishness

Every death, every day
reminds me of you-
and just when I let go,
move on, meet someone new
you surface and it is selfish,
but it is me who thinks of you.

I placed you high, above the rest
and when I am tested, tempted,
when I consider another,
I betray what we had. But,
what we had dissipated long ago
and you feel nothing anymore-
but what I imagine you to feel.
You are gone, laid to rest,
but I will not let you- now that
my dear is truly selfish-
in its purest portrayal.