me. (glossolalia)

I am sad and I am sad and I am sad
And happy
Because there are beautiful thoughts
So much beautiful
Inside my head
That you don’t want to hear
Because your trips
Are only ever your trips
Even when I’m there beside you
Sharing
Because I’m too new
And too intense
And too broken
And too small
(On the inside)

But you are wrong

Because I am wondrous
And beautiful
And ancient and enormous
(on the inside)
I carry wide open fields built for running
Without fences
And full of hope
And sun
And love
I am filled with so much hope
Always
I hope and I hope
And I hold the equity of hope
Hope for everything

And love
i contain so much love
And I love
And I give and give and give
And so much of me is taken
And I am rarely given
But that’s okay
Because that’s just how I’m built
And I think that
Life requires there sometimes
Be a one who gives love but
Who is rarely given and
Who gets forgotten but
Who is still Real
(Long past the time her velveteen has worn off the skin you once so loved to pet)
But
Who is left
Because the leaving and forgetting
Is so much easier than admitting
To yourself
That you didn’t love her back

(But you know.. In your deepest heart of hearts, when you lay there at night and the music plays that she showed you were the steps to her hidden cottage inside those wide open fields, admit that, even though you didn’t trust it, you loved her back. You loved her back, before you remembered you had to shut it out because you’d been hurt and she could hurt. You just couldn’t believe she wouldn’t.)

But her secret is:
She didn’t need you to
As much as
She needed you

To let her love you

Because I have wide open fields
Inside me
Built for running
And a room chock full
of origami heartsecrets
Given to me for safety
By the lonely ones on night watch duty
And even if they don’t remember
Our sharing
I do
And I hold them safe
Those precious origami secrets
Long past the time
Your memory of me has faded
And my heart has stopped beating
Those hearts and fields and beautiful
Will still exist

Even if we’re long past the time
When you would stop
And listen

I don’t have children
And I won’t
But even without that
Particular tie of blood
I still exist
And will continue to
Because I have wide open fields
Built inside me
That will go on
Long after my heart has stopped beating
As it must
As we all must

Reviews

[Fernando Pessoa]

I love how you create the feeling of this vast expanse within you. Your words, these ecstatic, dreamish thoughts expand the soul to limitless capacity, and even in the broken places there is hope and life.

Elizabeth Bowen: "No object is mysterious. The mystery is in your eyes." (The House in Paris, 1935)