Part 1

These days the nights are long and somewhat stormy

I sleep with the window open

I acknowledge the things I’ve started that I may never finish

And fantasize about going back to sleep

I wrap myself in my loneliness

I find it comforting, almost

I’d like to learn how to ask for what I need

I know that I grasp too tightly

I know that so much lives inside that is still hiding

I want to be here for the small things

I cook the same food I always cook

And still ask people if things sound ok

And still wonder about canceling

And why people do it so often

And if I could do it more

I want to let the words flow through me

I think back to missed opportunities

And love crazy deep

I know that writing is the key

between life and life, life

I still fear inadequacy

Why am I never the right temperature?

What of all the things we prop ourselves up with?

What about when they fall through?

None of us are entirely drug free.

And I’m stunted again by a feeling of my own fragility

I don’t want to read you things I wrote long ago

I want to write breath into this moment

I want to stop taking things so seriously, so personally

I want to let myself flow with my being.

Every story, make believe or real, comes from somewhere.


Part 2

When are you coming home my dear?

I promise I will hold you and forgive

We are like twin mountains, sturdy

We can escape fear

I know that I can which means you can

I’m starting to understand things differently

Which means you will too, or already are.

Intentions do matter. And so does the desire to dance, I can do one thing at a time and I can heal. We can dance through this world together, spinning, not being afraid, I’ll catch you, and you’ll catch me, and we won’t even know that it was beautiful until much later.

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