You're all I think about. These feelings didn't arrive overnight, they've grown steadily. They're not petty. And sometimes, the lack of your presence is a conspiracy against my mind for I recognize your voice in my silence - hearing your voice is the kind of intimacy I crave. Relaxing next to you in fold-up chairs as we listen to our priest's homily. Praying with heads bowed as the lights dim and we prepare to leave, ashes on our foreheads to remind us we are dust. To dust we shall return.
The way you leave me... the way you follow me home though your car and body are at your own address. I wonder what you're doing at work, what city or town you must travel to, how you're surviving in the biting cold. I worry about you - during the day, when sirens blare, when love hails.
Part of me wants to skip tonight. Possibly resume tomorrow. Hit the play button once you are out of my vision. You will break me tonight, unintentionally of course. You have such a good soul. And you'll use my name, and your eyes will touch mine, and I won't be able to get over this
for days.
-
After:
You didn't show. Everyone was worried, even our priest asked what happened. Thankfully, someone close to you knew. All that matters is that you are okay, safe. I will see you again but I don't know how long it will be. I shouldn't set my heart up for disappointments. My heart is hard to convince to move on. To heal. I should never have expected to breathe the same air as you in that choir loft, because when you're gone, the air tries to be toxic. Because it knows how capable I am of falling apart. Of feeling joyous then lightheaded. I must encase these feelings toward you. It would hurt to tell you all, to let you be
my all.
-
2/18/15
Before part written @ 2:43 PM
After part written @ 8:24 PM
