If I ever make love again, I’ll have to explain that I weep when I come.
I’ll have to explain that I weep at lyrics of songs and that I am easily moved by the tenderness of lovers and the pain of abandoned pets.
I’d have to explain why silence is easier to navigate but that I need white noise to sleep.
I’d have to explain that I don’t remember how or when I got my scars, that I try to hide them but they still show up at unpredictable times, totally unexpected.
I’ll have to admit that I don’t know where the softness of my soul, the weakness of resolve, and the steely stubbornness that keeps me moving when the heart wants to stop, come from.
I’d have to tell him what surprises me and what leaves me undone, that I don’t understand myself.
I like that word “undone” as if I gathered the spare parts of myself every morning in a cogent whole, then a careless gesture at the whim of the Universe tossed the mess about like a house of cards. Then I am left to contemplate the personal devastation with detached curiosity.
Sometimes I come up with theories for the tears, but often I just wipe them and pick up the pieces. Move on. It just is. Deep breath. Think of something else. Don’t stay there.
I’d have to explain that to him.
He would have to be not too busy or tired to hear me.
He would have to know how to bind broken pieces and kiss them to make them all better.
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What a wonderful blog.
If you have read some of AnElephant’s stuff, you will be aware that he finds sanity overrated and a bit restrictive. He thinks you are in no danger.
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Thank you. After strolling through your blog,(which is awesome) I am grateful that you took the time to read some of my stuff.
As for sanity, I agree that it is overrated….
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Beautiful and so bravely unbuttoned. Perhaps someone is already listening?
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Thank you. You know, there is a fine line between being brave and being reckless… I am not sure which one motivated this entry, just that I needed to say it, you know what that’s like.
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Yes, I do.
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This is getting to a point of almost scary for me.
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Sorry. I am what I am; no other.
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Not scary in the sense that it is frightening, rather in the fashion that it is written, who it is written by and or for, Your writing brings so many things to my mind, both good and bad at the same time. Things that I have thought, fears that I have and have had, dreams that I wish to have fulfilled and fill at the same time.
Okay I am stuck, I don’t know how to say what it is without sounding like a total fool.
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If I managed to connect with a piece of your humanity, if I gave shape or words to some of what you have felt or are feeling, then I am rewarded for daring to write it.
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Write on, there is more in there.
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