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It has been so long
Since I've felt this tired As I've been working Tirelessly On resting. On stopping before the telltale symptoms worsen and my brain cracks And out spills all the fear and all the ramblings and misery and anguish of a decade of holding my smile Holding my tongue Holding it all in. I've been working tirelessly On letting go of guilt Messenger's Guilt, Conduit's Guilt, Warrior's Guilt And all the tiny constant reminders that I should be doing more Letting go of the Hourly nuggets and daily daggers Of a life not.fully.lived. I've been working tirelessly On giving myself permission to breathe To relax, to restring, For wounds to become scars Pace Pace Pace Slow stop repeat. I have been working tirelessly And I am good at it I have done well Everyone is proud I have earned the endless hours in which I have trained my body to curl obediently among warm blankets and cool pillows I have learned to feel comfortable in comfort So I wonder why today When I have lapsed And the clock has gained extra hours once more And the warning signs slide back into my periphery When I find myself adrift in the twilight hours The hours I no longer know And long shadows curl around me like dark mangrove seagrass And my eyes sit heavy with all the day's lead I wonder why It feels like being home.
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In each day there are moments
Of quiet When dust glints on the windowpane And pipes creak their soft reminders That I am home That I am here A subtle call that this moment not go Unobserved In each day there are heartbeats Of fresh breath Hanging in warm air, drifting And distant motors hummm With footfall mixed Some soft, some marching The space between trees filled With the echo of voices past In each day there are hiccups Of tired muscles Shifting and settling White Steam whistling Against melamine tile Gentle droplets on polished wooden floor Clouds billowing in tannin surf And I - I spend these slow minutes Carefully, silently Trying to untwine What little is left Of the remaining Tendrils of me I would have loved you.
Even if you had my frizzy hair your father's nose my cellulite and his knobbly knees my stubbornness his temper my anxiety his depression your grandmother's hearing loss your papa's male pattern baldness I would have loved you Even if you were the worst parts of all of us Stitched into a patchwork of faults and flaws A tarnished canvas that this harsh world would have tried its damned hardest to reject But I With all my heart With all my mind From deep inside my empty belly I would have loved you, Endlessly. |
AuthorEllie has been writing her whole life - journals, poems, short stories, scripts... allowing words to flow has been a constant cathartic process for her. This blog is an outlet for her writing, no more, no less. Archives
September 2022
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