You Happened

Day 42 of the 90 in 90 blog challenge.

I will never eat again.
I will never sleep again.
I will never hold your hand and wonder
what time is it again,
and think about the work I should be completing
again
instead of wasting my precious time with you
again.
And I will bravely speak to those
who swore it wouldn’t work.
Whose acidic eyes bore into us,
wondering why I was the one
who was enough-
And I will hold them close to my heart.
Because they don’t know,
and will never know,
what it was
between us
that made our oiled cogs tick
held together in a rhythm that said
“You’re enough. I’m enough.
We’re enough.”
Over and over till the clock struck won.

And I will never heal again.
And I will never hear again.
Because I know the sound of your
beating heart
and the feel of it in my palm,
slightly rising and falling
so sweet-
like a continuous drip from a frozen faucet
onto the trembling tongue of a waiting cat-
and no other sound will ever
hold my ears.
I will never fly again,
and I will never feel again.

Until one day I wake,
dry-eyed,
and suddenly realize
that I am hungry
again.
That I just slept a whole night’s rest
without haunting dreams
and a heavy chest.
I will hold my own hand
as it does the work needed
till I let someone else come
and slide into me
again.
And I will learn to forgive those
who had no faith in us,
including you, my love.
Including me.
Including us.

And as the clock strikes one
again
I will hear the sound
of a tiny heart
whispering to the blood-
“Begin!
This way…”
And I will let it lead me
and you will not heed me,
and yet-
you still will not leave me.
For my flying cells will course my veins,
and within blue tubes
one true thing remains:
You happened.
You were there.
And you always will be.
Perhaps not as much, but in different form-
A smile on my face as I sip my coffee,
remembering the snow between my breasts
wedged playfully from your
black-gloved hand.
Stars in Georgia winking down
on the sprawled landscape of girl
slowly eroding into the woman
she will one day become,
and the boy-
I’m sorry, love,
(arguably!)
the man-
who helped her evolve.
A leather jacket in a crowd,
Being lost then finding out
that getting lost
is half the fun.
And that what we lost, we also won.
Finally really realizing
real relations
are more than just temptations
in scarlet lit corners.
And strangers to the former
people we used to be,
we will grow and learn to love
everything we once called “we.”