My significant other Is more other than significant now I wish I felt better about this fact I do not miss the now of him I’m still in love with the then of him When love knocks you can never know The beauty or horror in its entourage You believe love can conquer all And learn that love is often not enough My significant other left A significant mark on me That is hardly insignificant
Listening to a physicist waxing poetic In a live stream about theoretical physics, quantum mechanics, Philosophy, US politics, Mandela Effects, and more As he stands in front of the Large Hadron Collider While I drink a perfect cup of coffee and start my Tuesday My soul and my brain are extraordinarily happy
The enduring redwood is dead Meant to withstand Storm and fire and drought Heartwood rotted from within Disease and neglect Claimed their prize A reminder that Sometimes good things die
And so comes the end of the heaviest chapter The plot twisted dramatically In the hands of an unreliable narrator Linear time fractured Slowed Ran backward Perspectives shifted Creating more confusion than clarity
Muted colors of nostalgia dull recollections Emotional sharpness blunted The hollow ache of a long goodbye Completed with the deliberate placement Of an arch-ending period.
The next act begins with a page turn “THE NEXT CHAPTER” written atop it
I realize that this year’s Christmas Will be my first in decades without you That shatters me like a dropped ornament I wanted us to be a Hallmark holiday romantic comedy But we were, instead, a Nancy McKeon movie of the week This year is heavy with disappointment Like that of not finding that hoped for gift beneath the tree Or the disillusionment of learning Santa Is just your parents’ amateur slight of hand Or that moment in Love Actually when Emma Thompson Opens her gift to discover it's a Joni Mitchell CD Instead of the expensive necklace that Alan Rickman Bought for his sexy secretary instead of his loving wife You keep trying to gift me expired I love yous I let them fall to the ground like dry pine needles Christmas lights wear glimmering halos From the tears that well when the Carpenters croon Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas I will not hang your stocking Or buy you a well-considered gift I will, however, cast a Christmas wish For you to dream of better days As you nestle in an unfamiliar bed That old St. Nick blesses you With a better life ahead
I stand with Lady Hecate in her place of power The Great Crossroad The intersection of past and present Lessons and possibility She holds her lantern aloft Illuminating my options I can see that each step Each choice Leads to another nexus Another crossroad For life is a spiderweb of crossroads An infinite collection of choices Interconnecting to plot our life's course In this moment of perfect presence I breathe I reach out with my intuition With deep faith and trust I step forward Toward a future of my own choosing
You have said a lifetime's worth of, "I love you" in the last ten months I remember that you rarely said it in the twenty-three years When I needed to hear it like my blood needed oxygen What am I to do with your, "I love you" now Now that I cannot love you anymore Oh! My heart still loves you Still wrings drops of hope from itself Hope hanging heavy from tear tracts To be wiped bitterly away Because there is no hope left Hope is just a tether Preventing me from moving on From acknowledging the truth that The third body is dead and has been for a long time Love's hope nearly destroyed me Consumed me My heart will not let me pry this foolish hope from her hands So instead, I have to lock it away In the dark, cold, empty cavity that is my chest Heart unable to comprehend that I do this for our own good It screams and howls in the echoing silence "One last chance!" "One more time!" "Maybe this time! Maybe! Just maybe!" "I love you" manifests no magic here "I love you" will not call forth a miracle for us I still love you, Too But I HAVE to love me, MORE
This is hard shit. That sometimes grabbing that fact by the throat and screaming in its face is necessary from time to time. Sometimes sitting in the shadow of that truth is required when our spirits are tired and our hearts so broken. And when we're done, we rest. We breathe. And we rise and fight some more. Because we're mothers.