It’s January 1, 2016

It’s January 1, 2016

There is a brick sitting atop of my heart
and wind swept, grey murky waves
crashing into all sides of my lungs
and the weight is almost crippling
has me bound to an invisible,
not quite lackadaisical defense
and though my lips are free to speak
I cannot find the words to portray
the magnitude of thoughts adrift upstairs.
the same space I had when I was quite green
But we are born with a certainty of things
And green was synonymous with security
And parental love was unwavering
And everything else mattered little
And yet without notice, it shaped me
built the ark that houses my own unwavering love
characterizes my person, and carves my path
it created the space in me that holds my people dear
and the xray vision that bionically ties me to
the good in people, even after being wounded
over and over and over and over
But teachers come in all forms
and my green has manifested
into something a bit darker in nature
and the impact of this particular lesson
has me relying on long-rehearsed resiliency
which I am finding pieces of inside
the beautiful ark which used to house only love.
but in this tasteful, practical lesson
in the same noggin, fast-forward 30 years
simmers an intellectualized idea
that it may be the right answer
to love someone so deeply,
yet choose to live without them.
No one deserves to be treated poorly.
Yet my heart is heavy as I begin to
mourn the loss of half a person.
The half that liked to make me smile.