I lost something
Something I can’t name, something I can’t say—
A confidence, a possibility, a spunk.
My head, once full of magic and poetry,
Now filled with numbers so long and words so foreign
I can’t say.
They call it growing older, I call it a growing fear of not being enough.
I’ve been conditioned to jump through my own hoops
But somewhere, somehow, I lost something.
I had a voice that wasn’t afraid—
Now, I can’t say.
I nodded, too hurt to say how I really felt.
So I smiled, and you smiled—
You understand, right? This isn’t mutual
and I’m just too busy.
(Too busy for your best friend?
Or maybe I wasn’t, but she was to me.)
Sure I do, and now it’s mutual.
You left, but I don’t think you
knew how much it hurt to have that intense trust
tear away from my weary heart.
The door shut and I cried—too hurt to say.
I have always felt separate, somehow.
Yet solitude has never been a source of pain until
I felt the sting of pity in your eyes—
For you watched a kaleidoscope of fireworks
explode in color all around me
while I faded into darkness.
apathy is the mask I wear
to shield me from the burning numbness of a heart
from a weight I cannot bear.
I am strong, I say,
but underneath firm lines of shut are
screams unheard by rows of smiles
anxiety wraps me up in a blanket
tells me it’s okay, it’s alright.
until it snakes into my lungs,
a cobra inside me, jaws over my heart —
I can’t breathe, I can’t speak,
the world has turned on its head but thinks
I’m upside down.
She is an old soul,
Her eyes dark with tar and hard with age,
Heart buried under years of rain.
She is a trapped soul,
A present wrapped in a bow
Strung too tight to inhale, exhale.
She is a true soul,
Rising from lies in the dark,
A brilliant star on an empty stage.
She is a lost soul,
Eyes scanning the horizon for help—
I am here for you, always.
Sitting in the cafe I watch as
concrete melts into water
curving into the blanket of the land.
People turn to shrubs,
and cars morph into deer
gently grazing on the emerald grass.