PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

if a flower screamed

Friday, Aug. 09, 2002
t,

When I think about you I think about all of those things…..that started last nights sentences with “someone who..” Things I’ve always thought about but never even had the courage to voice. Things I’ve held in my veins like thoughts struggling to stay afloat rather than washing away with every cut. Every healed scar was another attempt on my part to hang tight to my belief in a love like that which lived only in my fairy tale dream. I never waved those wants like flags on Memorial Day because they are not holiday desires. They are shadows that have danced in the depths of my soul every day.

If a flower screamed every time a new petal was born, would you go hold its leafy hand? Would you say, “cry my sweet thing, it will sustain you, it will help you grow, this too shall pass and one day you will just know….” I am that flower, and I know I have cried those tears, I can only be thankful that somehow my stem weathered every storm before the gentle rain that was to become you drenched my soul in hope.

To know that the aches that swim through me are not shallow drowning or always lost, to be assured by the breeze of a summer wish, to be content in the knowledge that love, any love can feel like this? I am forever grateful there will always be at least that memory of you. Like a string of stars lighting my dark shadows, I will never again be so alone.

My words are weak attempts to wash you in my embrace. My thoughts are stuttered across the miles of wires… sssomehow….I..I..I just want you to know what you didn’t even know…the amazing thing that you simply did.

love,
k
1:49 p.m. ::
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