A poem about moving on and feeling that you have lost everyone around who cannot understand your journey...
I wish I’d known that the journey to find myself, was in fact an unlearning of all I knew,
Because now we are two ships passing each other over a midnight sea and the quiet of it shatters my soul.
I’d wail in sheer pain at the unjustness of it all but I’ve lost my voice to the waves and the shimmer of the moon mirrored on the water has stolen the last of my light.
There’s nothing I can do but let you go and make wishes on stars for tries again and karma and miracles and strength.
I like to imagine what I’d do if I had a second chance with you.
I think I’d open up.
I’d grab you by the hand and lead you to remnants of my broken-self scattered over dry desert.
I could show you the pieces of me I discarded willfully and those I lost to hurricanes.
Those that caused my death.
Those that gave me new life.
If only I could have a second chance.
I’d take you back to that moment when I could not unfurl my wings, scorched from the cremation of my friend into ash. I’d show you how I danced between love and oblivion but still found my way home.
I wish I could reminisce with you about the day I died to myself. That night I stood in darkness to adore the light. I stood in silence to find my voice.
If I had a second chance, I thought I’d lead you to where I came of age; to where I honoured the truth of myself; to where I fell apart.
But you’re here in front of me now and instead I thrust my hands into wet clay and build a wall, planting evergreens so that I can never be exposed in the winters of my life.
Because I never want you to know that the summer sun doesn't burn inside me and that my spirit can no longer sprout flowers like it used to. I don't want you to know that the same spring breeze won’t shake both our branches and that my frost won’t always melt at dawn.
So you look into my eyes and I see wounds from the loss of me there.
I want to shout from the tallest oak to let you know that I am not broken – down,
That I have just broken – out.
And I want to grab you by the shoulders
To tell you that I do still love,
That I do bleed,
You tell me my heart is like ice,
Not understanding that you contain the mystery,
The warmth of a raging fire.
Of course I can’t let you in.
So I continue to sit here and work on my walls,
A song on my lips,
A beat on my goat-skin drum.
And I try to ignore the fact that I’ve lost my dear friend,
On the journey to find myself.