You don't see it but I feel like a tree.
Little by little, you whittle me.
Every day you keep me at bay,
or when you keep my feelings at arm's length,
you carve little scars.
Every day you pay me visits
but you tell me always of these foreign shrubs
blooming far beyond your reach -
you tell me of your love of things I can't be.
I grow, but you'll see:
less and less I will be able to shade you,
and your ways will wear at me,
broken branch, broken leaves.
Or maybe
is it something else you want of me?
A chiseled statue? A bed? A home?
Is this why you work away,
chopping away what I don't need?
I don't know. But I can see in me
the lines where my flesh breaks
scattered all over me.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Saturday, June 20, 2015
2015 - Hell Froze Over, and How Life's Treating Me
"I'm glad the end of the world is working out for someone," said Jon Snow to his friend. It feels like great for me too.
I thought hell would freeze over before I would think about the choices I've made. I'm running and losing weight. I've made better ties with distant friends. I mended bridges with people I thought I'd never reconnect with.
Most recently: I applied for a job I never thought I could have. And it's promising how. And I hope I get it. And I hope I'm worthy of the trust it entails.
See, I thought the world would end before I would set my life straight, or before I could have even a hope at the things happening now. I thought that I was satisfied with how life would play out. Now I'm shown doors I never thought I could open. And they're within reach.
But I need to remember to be patient. There are events unfolding now and they still take time.
Just as I waited before things could come around, I still need to remember to wait until they are competed.
But when once I had given up, I'm given hope. And I'm praying it'll be something real, honest, and true this time.
Monday, June 08, 2015
"Soul Mates"
That's what they called us. In our small, very insular high school, I was classmates with this girl. She was tall, slim, and had long curly hair. I was fat. That kind of summed up the sight of us.
Except there wasn't much to see. You see, every school year the administration jumbles up every class section. You end up with different classmates every year. Sometimes you like them. Sometimes you don't. Some are blessed with the best basketball teams, and others have the pieces for a killer choir.
I had that girl, somewhere, in the corner of every seat plan. Every year, without fail,. we were in the same class. Every year, I was far in the back row, and she sat far to the left. We said hello in the hallways. We were professional about school were. It was friendly, if anything.
"Soul mates," is what they called it in high school. Maybe only 8 or so students are so "lucky" to be put together like that, from the randomness of class listing.
But we weren't friends, not any meaningful way anyway. We were never seatmates. We didn't really talk much. She was from the north, from a province that I knew little to nothing about. I was from here, in the capitol. She stayed in a the dorm on campus. I lived something like an hour's drive away. We had not a lot to talk about, and very little in common.
Today I saw her on Facebook. She's married. She has 2 children. She lives overseas, I heard. To this day, I still can't be bothered. I still don't go and say "hi," or try to "catch up."
Nobody asks me, nobody prompts me, nobody suggests that I look deeper and ask, "What if?"
What if I tried to be nicer?
What if I tried earlier to start a friendship?
What if from there, we had become closer?
I guess I'm writing this because there are so many people we meet in our lives. We pass them in the streets, or greet them when we go to work. They serve us our coffee, or clean our floors. We never go about trying to know them better.
Yet we always talk about "meeting new people," and "making friends," when there are people all around us we don't notice, until much later.
And more worryingly, do we lose out on the people we could come closer to? The Soul Mates of cheesy romance novel variety? Do we miss out on meeting them, because somehow we already know them? That we gave up trying to be brave, and be warm?
Except there wasn't much to see. You see, every school year the administration jumbles up every class section. You end up with different classmates every year. Sometimes you like them. Sometimes you don't. Some are blessed with the best basketball teams, and others have the pieces for a killer choir.
I had that girl, somewhere, in the corner of every seat plan. Every year, without fail,. we were in the same class. Every year, I was far in the back row, and she sat far to the left. We said hello in the hallways. We were professional about school were. It was friendly, if anything.
"Soul mates," is what they called it in high school. Maybe only 8 or so students are so "lucky" to be put together like that, from the randomness of class listing.
But we weren't friends, not any meaningful way anyway. We were never seatmates. We didn't really talk much. She was from the north, from a province that I knew little to nothing about. I was from here, in the capitol. She stayed in a the dorm on campus. I lived something like an hour's drive away. We had not a lot to talk about, and very little in common.
Today I saw her on Facebook. She's married. She has 2 children. She lives overseas, I heard. To this day, I still can't be bothered. I still don't go and say "hi," or try to "catch up."
Nobody asks me, nobody prompts me, nobody suggests that I look deeper and ask, "What if?"
What if I tried to be nicer?
What if I tried earlier to start a friendship?
What if from there, we had become closer?
I guess I'm writing this because there are so many people we meet in our lives. We pass them in the streets, or greet them when we go to work. They serve us our coffee, or clean our floors. We never go about trying to know them better.
Yet we always talk about "meeting new people," and "making friends," when there are people all around us we don't notice, until much later.
And more worryingly, do we lose out on the people we could come closer to? The Soul Mates of cheesy romance novel variety? Do we miss out on meeting them, because somehow we already know them? That we gave up trying to be brave, and be warm?
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