Tuesday, September 24, 2013

And there I threw my burdens down.

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I've been sitting here, trying to decide on what to say.
And I've concluded that I cannot.
I cannot say; I couldn't then, and I still now, I fail.
I've spent my time trying to remember you
and I wonder now if you can remember me.
I doubt it; I have even forgotten myself
a time or two, until she creeps back in
through the trapdoor under my eyelids.

Her hair was long. Dark. Wild.
She danced with people she hardly knew;
she laughed and giggled obnoxiously,
but honestly.

But when she is away, images return
of things I doubt I'll ever be sure of completely.
Notes and nooses, dangling feet.
Was the air in the room
dry and stifling, full of expelled life,
and your body a shell, a carcass, a deflated balloon?
Or was it stuffed with the scent of freedom?
Perhaps some things are better left unknown.

I've been thinking of words like with
and how it stays.
How it glows with possession
but even more, belonging.

I've been thinking about reactions to terrible events,
and how, even as I imagine, nothing can be calculated.
I never knew I would escape the house
and find solace on the summer grass, underneath
sky, where a tree used to be. Used to be.
I wonder now if its roots were still there, somewhere,
stretched and tangled beneath me like lines on a map,
tracing where life used to travel.

--Emily
currently listening to: Weapons by The Daylights