Sitting
Watching the rain fall down
The soft cushions I sit on absorb me
My eyes track the glistening drops that
Race down the glass in front of me
My breath fogs on the window
Looking down on it, it reflects a rainbow

Something that on another day
I would find beautiful
Any other day

My hand opens and closes still empty
My other rests in my hair

The cracked cement darkens with the rain
Glistening and reflecting the golden foliage above
One large puddle in the middle of the street
Holds a sun above treetops
On the ground below their trunks

The sun is clear as it often is in the mornings
Like a glass of water, cool, crisp and transparent
Despite the rain
No children run in the streets
Puddles left unsplashed
One tricycle sits
Yellow and red plastic too wet to sit on
A shoe floats in a puddle
Pink laces fray pink leather fades

The room I sit in is almost silent
My heartbeats and a shallow breath
This is the loudest room in the house

Diamonds and squares of light
Spill farther into the room as the sun rises
A gently tipping bucket of stained glass
My body is exhausted
The calm after a storm
Sadness soothing muscles clenched from anger the night before
Breathe in
Breathe out
Steady slow
My tears slow
Stop
And dry


Warm memories
Laying in the grass
Sun glancing off my freckles
What’s not to smile about?

But sitting in a dark room with the lights off
Simply because no one is here would need them on
But me
Not quite as warm

But in the darkness
Other senses flourish
Music is that much more beautiful
Textures have more vibrancy than before
So while that dark is a reminder of being alone
It’s a way to better experience that moment
A better way to see the person who is in the room

You aren’t alone when your with you
And that dim light makes you hear your heart beat
Feel every fiber of your hair

You are perfect
Perfection with flaws
Like home cooked food or handmade art

I stand up from those cushions
I run my fingers through my unbrushed hair
And see that I need to stop looking at that window

I need to stop waiting for something
And start doing something

I hate goodbyes
Yet they are the only measurement
Of my eternal life
For the seasons blur together
Only punctuated by farewells

Many goodbyes ago
I did not measure time in this way
I did not see a blur behind me
But a path ahead of me
That was before the darkness

Sun dances on my skin
Scatters through the leaves
Paints flower petals
Then a cloud covered the sun
Cool hands grasped me
I lost the air with which to scream

He was not who I saw my life with
Time is capricious character
For now I can’t see a life without him


Time…
It has changed me
Once a maiden of flowers
Now a matriarch of death

I have lived many lives
Played many roles
And yet it would seem live
Is a strong word

To be alive one must be born
This I have done twice
One side of me birthed from my mother
One side of me reborn
From the heart of a pomegranate

To live one must at some point die
Without dark light is not light
Without warmth there is no cold
There must be the opposition
To create identity

Without winter there is no summer
The change of the two a constant in my life
Unlike time that is counted by its running out
I live a life measured by transition

My grandmother always said
“The way into a person’s heart is through their stomach”
I keep replaying that lesson over in my mind
Tracing the flowers on the edge of this plate
I ask myself what tempting poison must have been fed to you
To make the three hours I spent on this lasagna not enough

I once thought of taking my life but the thought of all the people I needed to help kept me here
An act of complete selflessness
An act of complete selfishness
I cannot live my life for other people; it is not fair to them
Nor is it fair to me
If you keep drinking from a well
It will run dry
If you keep whittling a tree
It will be only a stump
I am not a bottomless wealth of help
I too have begun to run dry
But I refuse to choose the path of martyrdom
I will not teach a lesson learned by my absence
A person lost is missed most when left unresolved
I don’t want to be a case of what could have been said
…What should have been said

I give 100 percent of me and get back none
As an act of self-preservation I must brick over the mouth of this well
For I have grown weary of one way streets
I would give it all to you
And you can’t even spare a thing for me
I don’t ask for your pity or your hand outs
I may stand on the street and sing
But not to fill my cup with coins
But to sing
Today I must look at this street corner differently
For if I sang for change and received no coins
I would move to another corner
I know you will remember me
I know you ‘re changed by me
But I only wish I was ever presently important
For a friend who is seen as important in hindsight
Is a friend who is already gone
So I give you one last chance
I am here
I am now
Do not waste me
For I will go to another corner soon
And this time to sing for change
Because my throat has grown weary
I can no longer sing to you just simply to sing to you