eyes itching
rubbing something out
wondering if this sick that has a hold of me represents what i have taken in
the confusion of others is a heavy bag to hold
the anger even heavier
my back is sore from sitting this way
but i know it's the only way i can see out
and over you
i don't think you are aware of my watching
but that's more about you than me
i have always been watching out
something about windows and waiting seems familiar to me
i never quite knew who it was i was expecting to see other than someone who was late to show up
years late
lifetimes late
but just the same i wait with the same amount of eagerness as the first day.
i have been reminded in many corners of other's lives
of you
your eyes
and your smooth ease
i think it is somehow your way of letting me know that you're still around me
i'm pretty sure that my peripheral doesn't lie
and that things i don't see in front of me are more clear to the side of me
isn't that the hidden truth to life?
i mentioned your name today while with a new stranger who has become more familiar than she was a week ago
and i told your story-
how you had demons that you couldn't shake
and that for years you practiced your ultimate demise-
in words and actions.
it wasn't that people stopped listening to your threats but that
they were merely taking in a sigh of relief when you decided without really deciding that it was time to succumb.
i didn't tell her that i read your words after you were gone and how open you were about
the words that lived inside you
that were full of heavy letters and an aching heart.
i didn't tell her that i all but stopped writing after you complimented me on my words that so few get to see but that you took the time to look at
i thought there was some symbolic damnation in the way you looked at the words i wrote and the fact that i didn't comment on your words that you begged the world to see and respond to- until after you were gone..
yeah, i left that part out
just as i have left it out up until now.
but something in telling your story made something come full circle-
the recognition that both of us shouldn't be silent when one of us still has the ability to let it go.
when i think of you i think of water.
and the way that when the sun hits it just right it makes an echo effect of the under tow.
that you loved.
and lived.
and when i think of you i think of darkness.
and how there were places that no light could penetrate.
that you couldn't force.
or live with.
and when i think of all the things inside of me
i think of color
and how i'm starved without it.
i think about these itching eyes
this achy body
and the runny nose
and i think of how to let go.
like all things
i am here to wait
and to witness.
and tell the stories that pass through me
as they merely represent what i have taken in...
