neoshayna888

XVIII.
(P.S.)
I wish I didn't, but I still
think of you.
I still remember
your details, and I
miss them.
Why couldn't you listen to her?
Why didn't take the chance that
I did?
I hope that you will
tell me.
Someday,
any day.
Give up your silence and I will
give you mine.

XVII.
(Ett, Ensam)
I am lonely,
an anxious, fearful, awkward
infant.
I talk too fast and too much and too often
and too confusingly.
I talk about things people don't understand
or don't understand what people talk about.
I avoid what others run to and
seek out what others avoid.
Who am I?
                  Who
                  am
                   I
I think I might be crazy.
I keep existing, though, somehow not
yet taken by Evolution. Is that right?
Am I a correction or a mistake?
Am I the eraser or the scribble of pencil?

XVI.
(Chaos)
I can feel things moving,
even when my eyes are closed.
They are fast and swirling,
particles bumping into
each other without so much
as an,
"I'm sorry. Pardon me."
You left me. You left me
alone and shuddering,
convulsing and abandoned.
You left me for yourself.
How can a mother do that?
How can you do that without
a second thought?
I lost you and was angry.
And then I lost him,
and I felt guilty.
Do you think it hurt when I had to
sign away his body to cremation?
Do you think it was easy to feel
like I should be feeling something,
anything at all?
My personal existence,
it crumbled, it swirled,
it tried to fit itself back together.
These little cracked puzzles,
unique and dull under the light.
They tried, they turned. They
devised a plan to shake themselves
up and fall into place,
just like that.
Into a small bag, like little bits of
marbles. Shake, shake, throw --
Do you think it worked?
Do you?

XV.
(Kneeling)
When I am bound,
I am flying.
When I am punished,
I am smiling.
Take from me,
take anything and
everything.
That is my gift to you,
the promise I make
every time.
Life will make me stronger,
resilient. I will never back
up, never back down.
I will fight for everything,
I will be at peace for
everything else. I will resist
and battle, and I will rest
in between. That is life.
But, for you, things are
different.
Things are love.
I will lay here and wait,
I will give up and
be silent.
I will bow and listen.
I can't explain,
I can't even know
myself. And for that,
I will know you, and
you will know me.

XIV.
(6-14-2010)
I am
connecting the dots as they are
falling
and collecting the fragments of
childhood.
You were once a part of me
(but never knew);
You took a part of me
(but never will know).
Because I thought I had more time,
I ended up with nothing but
chimes striking one o'clock.
Too late to try, too easy to --
A landscape portrait without you. Every option,
every possible path presented here, is
lonely.
In time, I have lost you (and that
piece of me you tore off on the
perforated line).
In time, I will look for you, behind
every second hand and
binary calculation that
picked you out of my life too soon.

XIII.
(Closing Time)
Things were going to be over, so I wrote for
You.
Do You remember when I asked
on a whim and expected nothing?
Do You know how much I was shaking
because I thought I had made a
mistake that I couldn't take back?
Do You think about what You felt,
what made you reply with a
clear and simple
yes?
I know it will never mean the same
for You. I know you may
forget it in time, but You
need to know.
You need to know --
It meant something to me.
It meant I could be
happy without over-thinking it,
just for a little while.
Quiet between the
conversation, and the
sun out the window
with the thin clouds.
An empty lot and
an empty theatre.
Thank you,
thank you,
thank You.

XII.
(Broccoli)
When my heart felt like it was
stopping, it was worse to know
that theirs' actually were.
To witness, to cry,
to feel their blood
on your hands.
To feel their knives,
their claws and their
hooves beating into
you, a thunder of
life.
There is no way to ignore.
There is no way to ignore.
(There is no way to wash it out of you
mind.)
The stain remains,
plain and unscrubbable.
But until leaves scream and
grains rain tears, I will
have to suffer them
instead.

XI.
(Punch Out)
I worked there for
forever.
(I don't remember
the real time anymore.)
And in a way, I still
work there. I will be
back, and they are
still waiting.
They, the ones that
I love more than I
can describe, the
brothers and sisters
and aunts that I have
gained.
Still reaching out,
still calling when it
isn't a good time because
there is no other time.
Do you remember when we laughed?
Do you remember the plate and the
pizza and the zucchini bread and the
songs and the kid that was high with
bleeding knuckles that scared you?
I do.
I do, now and tomorrow.
Let's so this again sometime,
let's make something
amazing.
You are still my family,
my farm. Let's grow something
new.