I tipped my hand. I never was a good Poker player.

We'll see.

Thursday 7.24.14 B

It has been pointed out to me that I have not disclosed enough details for any of my Poetic Posts to make sense.

Here goes…

I guess I failed to mention that my Mafia Handyman moved in with me.

That’s all for now. Read back a little, and maybe it will make sense to you. Or not. It doesn’t to me. Not really. But kind of. Sorta.

When I stop long enough, actually, to think about, which I CANNOT, it all makes sense.

Sorta.

Thursday 7.24.14

I wish I could unplug my brain.

No work at work to distract me, so I took a mental health day. I am sick, after all, sick with grief. And if I can’t be distracted anyway, I’d rather be home, where I am free to lose control. Or, maybe, I knew he’d be here, and I could force the deadline, exercise some control over the inevitable, even before the possibility of final resolution/dissolution, a “meeting” scheduled for Saturday evening. I don’t know if he does, but I have an agenda.

I managed to last 30 minutes at work before the tears came. The tears have been there on the periphery for days, weeks, maybe months, waiting for me to relinquish control, held back, ignored, unacknowledged by anger, resentment, disappointment, disillusionment. And once they started, they would not stop. The dam has been blocked for too long.

I guess the mourning process has begun. Seven stages, is it? Anger. Denial. Acceptance. Is it only 3 stages? Don’t know, don’t care. Sadness?

Loss.

What am I mourning? There was never anything there, nothing real. All in my head, my heart.

Hope. Expectation. Surprise. Adventure. Change. Connection.

Now, realization. And the daunting task of starting over. Somewhere else. That, I knew a long time ago (and have come to accept??? again, recently), was inevitable. As always, though, I wanted it to be on my timetable, my terms.

But it – life – rarely is, right?

Wednesday 7.23.14

One day, conflict
One day, resolution
One day, wait
One day, wonder

Days on end
Endless days.
Even after nightfall,
Especially after nightfall.

Sleepless dreams of dreams,
Wakeful expectations,
Promises made and not kept,
Tears waiting to be wept.

Sleep deprived
With hope instilled.
Emotions churning
My heart waits to be filled.

A new world ahead -
As a matter of survival,
Holding my breath
Awaiting revival.

Curious of lessons
I am supposed to be learning…
Focus on enlightenment
Break free from the yearning.

I shall emerge
More able and strong.
I will hang on
For ever how long.

Wednesday 7.16.14

Fractured but not broken.
Bruised but not bleeding.
Burdened yet enlightened.
Asleep yet aware.

Tethered yet free.
Anchored yet weightless.
Unstable yet grounded.
Fuzzy yet focused.

Exhausted yet energized.
Breathless yet oxygenized.
Frightened yet fearless.
Fearful yet eager.

Destroyed yet hopeful.
Devastated yet joyful.
Tortured while teased.
Teased while tortured.

Mad as a hatter.
Never happier.
Falling as I rise.
Rising as I fall.

Moving at a snail's pace
running as fast as I can.

Deaf
with music in my ears.

Queen.
Pawn.

Fully evolved
Embryo.

Setting sail for adventure
Compass pointed…where?
Adventure of a lifetime,
No hurry to get there.

I've lost 11 pounds in 11 days. One hell of a way to go on a diet.

Saturday, 7.12.14

When you eat, sleep and drink

from another person’s well

for eight days straight,

it’s bound to become complicated.

And intoxicating.

The question that remains is:

Is the well poisonous?...

And how strong is my immune system?

Tuesday 7.1.14

Fire.

You
light a fire.
I am
a-fire.

The match barely touches the kindling
and I need to back away from the flame.

Burn down the walls
concrete and all.
I’ve spent years to erect them
fearing rejection.

That’s not true,
not true at all.
A lie I am telling:
I ne’er put out a call.

I ne’er even ventured
to feel the warmth of an ember.
Safe, tucked away,
Tried not to remember.

You
lit a fire.
I am
A-fire.

Let me dance again, among the flames.
Danger, life, and freedom await within.