And even amongst all my bitter sadness
and grief
and anger
and lack of sleep,
I still miss you
and I continue
to wish
that you would come home to me.
What does that say about my heart?
That it’s too big?
Too forgiving?
Too naive to wish we may not forever be apart,
that we will keep living?
Is my heart too full of hope?
I’d give anything to know.
I’d do anything just to know
the answers.
I am foolish.
But that’s what love does to a person
such as myself.
I can’t help
but fall hard and backward, and upside down.
I can’t help
but hold you so close,
too close
to my heart.
You were everything.
You were
everything.
And I would have given you anything
to show you every ounce of love
that you deserved.
But here we are…
broken.
My proclamation of love
is too late
and yours
is unspoken.
I do believe that we can both concur
that fate
had other plans
just like you did
when your waves of uncertainty
buried me beneath the sand.
I use to look into your eyes
and see a beautiful, welcoming sky
colored ocean,
one that I could swim within
for miles.
But now, I’m choking
up the water
that went down the wrong pipe
when you decided
that you no longer wanted to be mine.
I drowned
and for some unbeknownst reason
you just stood by and watched.
I remember a solid frown
drawn across your weary face.
I remember I called out for you
but you did nothing.
You simply turned and walked away.
No one threw me a life raft.
No one sent me a warning flag.
The tides of your forgotten love
swept me away
and I know now that I will never look at you the same.
But still, here I am,
drying off,
letting the oxygen refill my lungs,
wishing you’d turn back around,
wishing you’d come to your senses and
come sit with me on the ground
so that we can figure this out
and dissect
and try to understand
how we got caught up in this mess.
What does that say about my heart?
You broke it,
you pulverized it.
Yet
I would still put it back into your hands.
What does that say
about who I am?
Unraveling my soul 