i was the sea
i shuddered and raged
i could not be tamed
and you were lost in me
trying to find your way back home
but i could never stand to be alone

                               i pulled you under

Kisses
Like
Coming Home
Warm
As the morning sun
Filtering
Through the window
Arms
Wrapping around you
Holding you
Keeping you
Safe

-jt

It takes time to let go.
To stitch yourself up,
To mend and mould those pieces of yourself that you willingly gave to others.
But there are no regrets. It just takes time.
To let go, to recover from the past.

But maybe...there are things i don't want to let go.

I want to feel
like the rays of sun,
the lucky ones,
that filter through the clouds and trees,
touch the ground, the fallen autumn leaves.
I want to warm the earth,
warm a hearth, warm a heart,
warm your cheeks when I speak
small words like your name and
big ones like "procrastinate" and
big feeling ones like "love"
also words I can't pronounce like "Worcestershire"
then words I don't know how to use like "assuage"
and okay maybe "love" again.

And okay I want to maybe love again
and when I hear your small name,
I think I do love again
because you feel like those sunbeams,
the ones that warm a chilly breeze
the ones I want to cross the street to walk in.

Am I taking advantage of you,
of your always being there, here,
walking with me?
When my foot leaves the earth, yours takes its place.

Sometimes I start a poem and stop,
unable to finish.
"I haven't felt the emotions for this one yet,
to give it what it needs, to water it, make it grow,"
I think. "Some future version of me...
she will know,
she has those words stored up,
they'll flow,
but not for me, not quite,
not yet, no."

You're like one of these poems.
Do you know
how many times I've started, just to
stop and think, "Whoa,
not quite, not yet, no.
I haven't quite mastered this craft."
Save draft.

Apart from the pathological,
there are divine moments  of saving--

A diving catch of the heart, if you will..
a defibrillation,  through either words,  
or action:

A restoration back into normal heart-rhythm..
the causing of a heartbeat-race
(to the point of nearly burst)
a jump-start, if you will
(a poetically-induced, mouth-to-mouth, resuscitation)..

This inclination  towards  incantation--
the one, nearly feverishly-spoken..
into all things, caged..
into all things, bound.

There is a ship-- set somewhat,sail
on ocean;  turbulent,
yet not quite, ghosted.

There is a wind that will always remain
for those,  who's sole(soul)-choice

                          is to but   inhabit.

You never let me call you in those last days
Because you didn't want me to see what you had become
As if you'd ever be anyone else than
The man who laughed when I forgot the water in the cake mix
Who knocked me off the couch with his yelling at a football game
Someone with talents and always some good advice
A hero with the strongest heart
Despite it hating you now and then
I'll still remember our final talks
And how you had always said it was your greatest regret
To not live to see what I'd do with my life

I remember your funeral
Somehow I couldn't cry
The only dry eye
I've made up for that as of late

close your eyes babe
what do you see?
a starry night or a porcelain sky?
is it the shade of navy you love?
i closed my eyes and i saw the world grabbing me gently, pulling me tight and close,
while it whispers sweet nothing in my ear
i envision a love that is endless,
a heart so large that it overflows,
and a passion that even fruits envy.
so tell me darling,
have you a dream to sell me?