I woke in the morning, and there was a sheet of ice covering the whole world.
It was drifting into infinity, frozen,
stuck in place.
I stood in front of this icy barrier, transfixed,
spiraling into a space that left me cold and shaken.
In the freeze, all the impossible things echoed back at me –
not yours, never enough, never will be.
And everything that was ever lost, that fell apart,
that never fell into place,
came sliding down
until I felt myself crashing, breaking —
There were tears I would have wept had I felt warmer
& things I would have screamed had I felt less weak,
but there was a vice on my neck & my voice was damaged.
When Alice in Wonderland meets Go Ask Alice,
curious wonder turns into a mean obsession
& love, in all of its fantastical, tangible proportions
turns upon itself,
feeding on angry words,
pent-up leanings,
and 3 a.m. frustrations –
Innocence dies a sloppy death, alone.
And dreams, once-nurtured,
twist themselves into angry muscles
longing to shatter the chains,
to hold onto something until it breaks
beyond recognition, beyond repair.
Touch me like you mean it, I once said,
and you did
You left something so deep inside of me
that I’d have to cut myself in half to find it.
I drive a spike through my spirit at least once every season
hoping rust and ice might fall away. . .
hoping the elusive spark of something
that once left me warm & thriving
is no longer out of reach.
exquisite.
Never know what to say when I read poetry. But wow. Good.
We never lose the pain of our losses, it’s true. Sometimes we open a closet door, and they tumble out and bury us again, just when we’d *almost* forgotten their number, weight, magnitude.
But we also never lose the blessing of our gifts–those given, those received. Numbed and frozen maybe, but not out of reach…
wow
Stunning words. Only one very rhetorical question – HOW do you do that? What an enormous gift you have been given.
Amazing. Simply amazing.
http://www.imtiredonline.com/smile/ I love to read what ever you write Jane. i had to post this cause my email came back. this you will LOVE
Beautiful. Makes me ache and yearn to find that feeling again. People can relate to this, Jane. All people.
Sad, exquisite, and hopeful all at once….and I’m not usually a fan of poetry, but yours are like stories written in a different form, and I love your stories.
I didn’t know you were writing here again, so I have some catching up to do…..I can’t wait! It feels like a bonus.
I love poetry, Jane, so was excited to read this. Your words and tempo evoke the images you once lived, feelings you experienced. Broke my heart.