One more sleep and I close this chapter of my life; the chapter filled with more love and laughter than I ever thought possible. I will miss you still or perhaps I will miss how I felt when I was around you.
But with that came screaming, fighting, and words we can never take back. With that came pain and addiction and resentment. We were everything to each other and we watched as we slowly became nothing. We could not have stopped it, it was inevitable. Fated.
So if that is true then I am fated to move on. I am fated to heal from you and this. And I know you will too.
You dump me.
Trust is gone.
How some months back I had drawn a picture of a squirrel and a little bird sharing it online , a few days later a dead mama squirrel shows up in my parking space. Shortly after that a dead baby squirrel in short proximity to where the mother had been found. I am the one that finds the bodies, but someone else removes them after I find them. My husband brushes it off as coincidence, but I think about how before we moved into this space and changed cars how I was getting multiple nails in my tires every few weeks. My dad and others would also brush off my misgivings about those instances, but this would occur over the space of years and there would be no one I could turn to for help or security.
The nails have since stopped but this squirrel instance brought a sense of renewed fear.
Perhaps though someone gave the neighbor kid who’s obsessed with nerf guns a bb gun and he decided to practice his shots on the local wildlife. That wouldn’t really be any better but at least it wouldn’t have been directed at me to send a message of some such monsterous intent.
A dalliance with Death occurs
While Nostalgia and I have our fling.
We kiss under the lamppost of a life
Shriveling from the light.
No more tears frozen by hummingbirds
And lilacs and glittery green trees.
Here, Death toys with me and Nostalgia
Bites her lip in a sensual way.
They hardly notice at first the light glowing inside
My supple skin.
Sometimes, I forget you
ignited a match in me that can never darken.
At least I tell myself this on days
where Nostaglia undresses me with her eyes
and Death laughs at me and sings “soon kid.”
I think I see you as I step off the sidewalk so my thirsty companion can get a drink.
The man smiles briefly but walks hurriedly by, silent when I offer up a good afternoon.
Silly me, it’s been well over ten years and I’m quite sure your day to day business keeps you occupied enough that that you showing up here of all places would be improbable, but I think about it still as I peer down after the man as he turns a block shy of where we’re going. The resemblance is uncanny in that brief moment I see his face and it dredged up a myriad of feelings, mostly the kind of missing I suppose. I shouldn’t fixate on these things so heavily, I have business to take care of too.
When I get home, I finish up my latest body modification practice, a little ankh on my pinky to remind me of pleasant fascinations in my youth.