Disentangled Deliverance

I heard it
hushed
rushed
like when the phone is dying
and I knew who
but I ignored it
just like you
earlier
afraid I would hear
I knew then, too
and I can’t look at you
not right after
for fear
I knew you’d see
my face gives me away
so if you don’t look at me
you’ll never see my pain
and we can carry on this way
because you chose it
how’d I have no say?
well, that’s the way of it
and every single day
I wait
and every single day
I cringe
I crawl
a little ball I am
and I try to ignore the fact
that I’m in love
and that I want to cry
and that I want to hit you
for hurting me
for not telling
for not thinking about it
just because you’re happy
doesn’t make it okay
for the rest of us
I want to collapse in your arms
and cry until my heart feels again
it isn’t easy keeping it cold
it isn’t easy being numb
but I know how you feel
and it would take just a minute
to realize
that there must be a problem
if you aren’t sure of love
you aren’t in love
it’s as simple as that
time won’t help you decide
trust me, I know, I tried
love isn’t comfort and trust
love isn’t passion and lust
love isn’t measured in time
and I know, love isn’t just
love is not wanting to leave
love is a mental reprieve
loving should not be a crime
for lovers are far too naïve
but the story here, far too sad
is in parallel
and I’ve played the role before
from a different seat
but it was just as bad
I can’t help you see
how you would have so much more
with one less
without you asking me
and even still
it seems so contrary
you probably wouldn’t
even believe me

but I’ve watched you
when you weren’t looking
and I don’t see a man in love
I don’t even see a man confused about love
I see a man confused and saddened
by the loss of a first
that was really good sometimes
and really hard
though that’s easier now to forget
since she’s allowing it
though she’s not aware
just how much you’re testing it
I’m the only other one
who knows what’s going on
and my heart is breaking for you
for me
watching your guilt
take a life of its own
and the longer you wait
the more it’ll have grown
when you finally decide
to tell her the truth

it’s selfish what you’re doing
I don’t want to sound mean
but you’re aware that you’re hurting
and destroying self-esteem
and you know what your instincts
are telling you to do
so if you won’t do this for me, or for her, babe
do this for you

       

       

Copyright L.M. 2008.

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Ascent

far below me lies
a river too deep to swim
it snakes all around me
and beckons me in
I reach for the branches
but, snapping, they fall too
and suddenly I realize
that I’m flying for you

the rapids, they squeeze me
and siphon my strength
the bitter chill of the water
testing my faith
somehow the branches
they keep me from death
and give me a chance at
a new kind of breath

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (written in West Virginia on way to Florida.).

The Impossible Point

Philosophy came early to me; I guess I always used to think a lot.  When it came time to sharpen my pencil, I’d often stare at the sharpest tip I could make, and realize how it was still rounded.  That’s when I came up with my Impossible Point idea.  Of course, it wasn’t new, and it certainly wasn’t Earth-shattering.  But it was at an early age, and without outside influence.  I just thought a lot.  I’d try to tell my friends (the ones who thought for themselves) and they would argue that no, I just wasn’t sharpening it enough.  They didn’t get it.

It was through those eyes that I realized how things aren’t always as they seem; when under a magnifying glass, everything changes.  Or, sometimes, it’s the exact opposite.  Sometimes, when looking too hard, when focusing too much on something near, you miss the main picture — you entirely miss the point.

And it’s always important to see the point….. rounded or not.

Maple

on the underside of a leaf
it was written like a picture
slow, delicate, strokes
finding a lost path along each vein
and I read it aloud
listening to each line
tracing it in my mind
letting the song begin

and did I save you? I’m sorry
if the life crossed over
shining within you so bright
with the scent of new rain
it’s almost too much to feel
you let me breathe tonight

    

      

Copyright L.M. 2007.

October

the legs are dying
wailing protests to no one and everyone
they know, too
but doesn’t sorrow have its place?
defending pieces of its grace?
it separates
and heeds the barrels’ breaks

touch of gold leaf
borrows a creed for old times’ sake
it falls, too
so when upon our presences falls
the living breathing free-for-all?
the flying, dipping leather ball
it balances
and awaits the final call

      

       

Copyright L.M. 2007.