There are many times when words fail to express the totality of the human experience. The truest, deepest emotions often occur in spaces where language cannot go. My abuser wanted me to die. I live and I’m telling. This is just the beginning.
Cicadas buzz in the sorrow of night. Late summer heat and humid fear vibrates on my skin. Insomnia breeds paranoia and terror.
Dad’s gone. Two days left of this visit. My first one back since his death. This is not a night, or a day, but an in between. A purgatory. I remember another sleepless night in this bed a year ago. They’d found the cancer that killed him in the frozen dead of winter. We were hopeful then. We sat at dinner, over Mom’s vegetarian bbq. He was in a good mood as they discussed the spot on his pancreas.
God would heal.
Later, abandoned by sleep and haunted by the future, I feared losing him when there was so much left to say. Not unsaid things. But things that were on their way. And unremembered things. I kept meaning to ask why he walked away from God for 15 years when he was my age. There were other things like that, but he was dying and our will was bent towards his living.Continue reading “Cicadas in the sorrow of night”
I woke to your voice clinging to my thoughts
a web of tangled conversations
shaken loose by the storm in my head.
You once told me I thought like a man
Not the thing you want to hear from a lover
But then, you’d have known that.
It’s my birthday today and I know you remember
I feel your thoughts upon my body so dense I can
barely lift myself from the bed.
But I do not call and I wonder if you will
Like I wonder this time each year.
I’m relieved when you don’t but
your absence is so near it’s like that first day
I woke and remembered you were gone.
I always knew we were made for heartbreak
You and I
It never stopped me from loving
Drive to work
But I have this sense I left my body back in bed.
I want to tell you that. You’d get it.