so here we are…
in search of a truth that doesn’t want to be found
except by accident.
i guess that means we’re stuck here,
until one of us stumbles onto it.
maybe you can help me
distinguish truth from reality,
and then we’ll see where dreams fit —
because why shouldn’t i cherish
the dream i created?
it’s real enough to me, isn’t it?
but it’s not *true*
and that matters to me,
since we can’t be us without you.
Category: words
-
connection
-
paths
the air is different,
and i remember it fondly.
it once carried the promise
of infinite possibility —
but you can’t get that anymore,
you know.
now it carries
the scent of that promise
with subtle hints
of bitter sweetness
that (are sometimes
not so subtle
and) always leave me aching
for the paths i didn’t take.
maybe some are lost,
but i can feel in the air
that some remain,
buried there beneath
the words i couldn’t
still can’t
want to
might not ever get to say. -
121325
i’m surprised when you listen —
when threads of our conversation
weave into the fabric of our day
and
i’m surprised
when your cleverness means
my own won’t go unnoticed
or argued away
and
there’s a calmness
in being understood
implicitly,
a gentle comfort
in never spending energy
defending myself
against the devil’s advocacy
of every single thing
contradictory to me —
and i wonder if you can hear it
when i whisper. -
crushed
the weight of forever,
knowing it’s more of this,
has pressed harder still
until
i lay unmoving in the earth
and wait to melt away.
and then
you’re there, and you see me.
you offer me some tea
and the bits of me
i thought i’d never see again
start coming back
and then
you’re there. can you help me?
i’m rebuilding myself
in my own image,
but i’m not sure how
to fit all the pieces.
so if that’s where you are now,
maybe we could walk together
and watch the birds
until we figure out how
sisters are supposed to be. -
spark
i let you steal my light
to support your habit
of pretending everything’s alright
while the world burns down,
and now i’m alone –
because pretending can’t withstand
the little bit of scrutiny
you might get from me
if you take my hand
and move forward together,
instead of back and forth
like a dog on a tether.
but even the dog knows
it shouldn’t be like this,
yet she forgets the weather
for one moment of bliss,
and i would be remiss
not to mention that you’d never
put the dog there in the first place.
just me. -
untitled
“nothing”
would be welcome,
if it were truly so.
but nothing is always
something,
& sometimes,
it’s actually everything. -
labor.
the laundry that takes
twice as long
because everything is inside out
the dishes that are
crusty with food
because nothing has been rinsed
the messes that appear,
inexplicably,
on every surface, every day
the endless clutter
of things that have a home
but can never find their way
the careful shopping
and poring over options
to save the most on needs
breakfast, lunch, and dinner;
morning and bedtime routines
bus stop twice a day,
supervising outdoor play
checking temps and giving meds,
cleaning vomit from floors and beds
fixing what needs fixed,
solving problems that exist
and preventing countless others
through hyper-vigilance
anticipating the needs of six
and managing a team of four
who seem intent to operate
in near-constant discord
one unofficially designated
executive functioner,
head of thinking and doing and being,
first of her name
and first one to blame
but then you say i don’t have a job,
so tell me – who is doing it all? -
2-22-25
I could forgive all you were
if it’d change who you are,
but I know it won’t,
so I can’t,
because intolerance is intolerable.
In a different world,
unmarred by your hateful convictions,
we might get along –
because we aren’t all that different,
actually,
once you take away the bigotry.
But you won’t take it away.
No, in fact,
you add more every day
and still wonder why
I have no interest in a guy
who thinks Nazis are okay.
If ever you retire
from your mental gymnastics,
I can help you find your way.
Until then, I don’t care to hear
anything you say.
emalmc 