I don't know how much more of this I can take.
Why does everyone expect me to have all the answers?
How can I help someone else
if I can't even fix my own life?
People spend too much time stuck in the past
using it as a safe haven, forever looking backward
and going in circles, instead of moving ahead.
Does it make me a failure that I can't handle all this?
Should I be a better person than I am?
What can I do to make things different?
How do I get away from here?
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
The One Who Got Away
Written October 2012
Leave the past where it is,
let your old love die,
flicker out like a waning flame,
walk away and start anew.
Forget about the one who got away.
That life is over now.
You know you can't be friends;
the pain would rip your heart to shreds.
What must it be like to be with someone
and think of no one else?
To be truly happy with what you have?
To never think about the past?
The engagement ring had felt so heavy on my finger then.
No matter what I told myself, I wasn't ready to be his wife.
Despite the unseen force drawing us together,
I didn't have what it took to please an older man.
But my heart said otherwise.
The compassion in his eyes drew me in,
pulled me down through the deep
dark waters I knew I would lose myself in.
I gave up everything, walked away
from my life, shedding it like a basilisk sheds its skin,
and stepped into his arms, so full of tenderness.
How can I just walk away and leave all that behind?
Why do bad memories disappear in time?
Who do old lovers remain with us like
the forbidden names carved into trees?
Why can't my heart let go?
The memory of his tender touch,
the goosebumps that rose and fell like waves
across my naive skin, the warmth
of his body pressed so close to mine,
the recollection of his boyish smile
does wicked things to me.
Let the world think what it will,
say what it feels, gossip to its heart's content:
the one great love of my life is not my husband,
but a man who found himself another wife.
My husband, on the other hand
will never be the one that got away,
and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Leave the past where it is,
let your old love die,
flicker out like a waning flame,
walk away and start anew.
Forget about the one who got away.
That life is over now.
You know you can't be friends;
the pain would rip your heart to shreds.
What must it be like to be with someone
and think of no one else?
To be truly happy with what you have?
To never think about the past?
The engagement ring had felt so heavy on my finger then.
No matter what I told myself, I wasn't ready to be his wife.
Despite the unseen force drawing us together,
I didn't have what it took to please an older man.
But my heart said otherwise.
The compassion in his eyes drew me in,
pulled me down through the deep
dark waters I knew I would lose myself in.
I gave up everything, walked away
from my life, shedding it like a basilisk sheds its skin,
and stepped into his arms, so full of tenderness.
How can I just walk away and leave all that behind?
Why do bad memories disappear in time?
Who do old lovers remain with us like
the forbidden names carved into trees?
Why can't my heart let go?
The memory of his tender touch,
the goosebumps that rose and fell like waves
across my naive skin, the warmth
of his body pressed so close to mine,
the recollection of his boyish smile
does wicked things to me.
Let the world think what it will,
say what it feels, gossip to its heart's content:
the one great love of my life is not my husband,
but a man who found himself another wife.
My husband, on the other hand
will never be the one that got away,
and I wouldn't have it any other way.
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