Breaking down

Breaking down
Self imposed barriers
Last bastions of sanity
Last soldiers holding the line
Scraping out the lining of bags long closed
Opening doors nailed shut

Breaking down
Remember the pieces that didn’t fit the narrative of self
Remember the fights
Remember being young
Remember being stupid
Remember walking in front of speeding vehicles with a glib phrase and the secret desire to die

Breaking down
Remembering the unkind words and the immediate regret and the silence that followed
two people hurting and hurting each other to feel human for a few minutes before they went back to drowning separately
Remembering trying to be the hero for unheroic reasons
To rescue for the reward instead of to defend this battered soul of youth
Remembering days of loneliness and ache masked behind moments of epiphany

Breaking down
The long slow climb out of oblivion
Out of the things done and not done
out of the pits of what have I done
And the tainted desire for a little more
And the bitter poison fruit of vengeance
In whose seeds bore the sweetness of peace
Trying to save everyone because I could not save her
Waking paranoia because a moments inattention caused a lifetime of pain

Breaking down
There are lifetimes within lifetimes and deaths within deaths. Sometimes change is not enough and what was must be allowed to fade

Breaking down

How awful to think it

If I could save her, of course I would, of course. It’s easy to say, discounting all the years past that point. Discounting all the changes I made to be a better person.

Of course, I’d go, I’d be there and that would make the difference.
If I could save her I would.
If I could make a different choice
I would
And accept that it means that the man I am now would be annihilated.
All of those experiences that turned me, minute by minute would be destroyed as well.

Of course, I’d save her. Of course.
Knowing how it happened, knowing it all.
Of course, I’d save her. Of course.

And accept that saving her, means dying in her stead. I’d still be breathing but the man I am now would never be. The love I’ve experienced, the people I’ve met, the family I’ve connected with, the goddess of my heart. It all gets snuffed out, turned on the wheel of a choice.

Of course I’d save her
Of course

The mind ranges back

there is a poem I wrote more than a year ago.  Something that was for someone.  An unrequited love who was intimate and sharing and all the great stuff.  But only on her terms.  Only when she needed me. And only as a ‘friend’.  No this is not a ‘nice guy’ or a friend zone post. We were more than friends.  More intimate than friends.  But by calling us friends she got to minimize what we were and make it easier for her to treat me as disposable,  I think, anyway.  I never really understood the point of lying to yourself about important things. I wrote this and she was not interested in hearing it.  So it sat on a shelf. Really a text file on my phone until I thought of the perfect last line today.
It was all about how I loved her and wanted her in my life, how I saw specific things about her and about us and all that jazz. But really, i was just a toy to her. Or I don’t know what.  But it wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t good.

But I’m not sharing the poem.

Instead,  I’m just sharing the last line.  Because the last line says it all.


I love you
beyond your desire
to love me back

The things I miss

Your voice, whispering softly in my ear.
Your smile, like the sun coming out.
Your eyes flashing grey in sudden anger
The look in your eyes, saying Sir
Dressed to the nines dancing with abandon
Holding you after you spoke with family
Public displays of affection and your blush.

These 7 words for seven things that I miss.
11 years, 4 months, 11 days.

But there are those who are here that I love. But I’ll never be over her. I hope that’s OK.