Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Never gives you more than you can handle.

This is my life
It's not what it was before
All these feelings I've shared
And these are my dreams
That I'd never lived before
The pansy blooms are upside-down today, giving up in their search for the sun. The leaves disintegrate, plastering themselves all over the wrought iron fence, the stone path and the metal door that lead into my house. The wind licks my future, tasting it and alternately returning for a greater helping and recoiling in disgust. Today every friend is an enemy and every enemy a comfort. Up is down and in is out. Today I can't get a purchase on learning from the past and finding my place in the present. I'm afraid I'm holding everyone up or perhaps they might be leaving me behind.

A book in the tall grass with a lantern on a hot September night, tire swing bumping gently against the rubber soles of my shoes that are worn smooth and ragged from a summerworth of running to catch up to the boys, catch up to the fun, catch up to the fireflies that make my breath catch in my throat with their simple beauty and then that same breath chokes me because I know that it's September and I know we're leaving soon and I can't have this comfort, I can't keep this place and I can't even do well-enough a job of bringing it back inside my head when I need it now. And I no longer remember what the ocean sounds like because I've never heard it enough and I'm never sure if what is done is done in spite of me or because of me.

I wonder if I'll ever catch up.

It's a rainy day today, pinning ghosts to the crumbling walls and counting pieces of leaves stuck to the stained glass from the outside in. And I'm wondering if I'll ever be okay.