I love to sing.
I can listen to music over and over
the days when my heart is breaking
I hear the lyrics.
They push through the ego
through my chest
in my heart, the lump in my throat becomes
a necklace of the past.
Sit’s there perfectly adorning my chest
with it’s weight of life and love.
with problems past, and futures’ un-realised.
The only way for me to lighten the charms around the chain
is to force myself
to play the songs I want to turn off.
The songs that speak the truth
The lyrics become my sadness exposed.
But hope slides in under,
and on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th time in a row I play it,
I can hear the relief in spewing forth the demons onto paper
into the fingers of the guitarist,
the tap of the drummer,
the raw scratch as the singer sings what could only once,
be whispered through a veil of tears and short-stuttering breath.
Today, it is this song.
He said I only love the idea of him.
I don’t want to. I want to return to him the depth of love he has for me.
For he is truly what shortens my breath, and causes my heart to fly.
I am the one who pulls my heart back, kicking the onlookers and caretakers away.
If I set it free, I might not come back.
It is a cliff, and I’m starting to see that the only way forward, is to fall.
I know I’m capable, I’ve climbed down before, hanging for a brief moment in time
with the air, and the breeze, and the release from having handed up the control.
lying on the sand, i rolled over and brushed his torso.
that’s it. It’s not some dramatic scene, wasn’t a grandiose gesture of love and respect.
my fingertips were connected directly to my heart, my spirit, my soul soared over the waves
and kissed the sky.
God I loved him in that moment. There wasn’t an atom of his that I didn’t think was fucking brilliant.
Like a pool to dive into, i was immersed in him by just touching his skin in the midday sun.
There’s my knowledge.
My knowledge that I am capable, and available for love to create life.
I’m going to be different. I want to be different.
And it’s going to be beautiful x