Friday, September 16, 2011

One Thing

(Pre-Script: This poem should be read as the song, "Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall,"#38 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...)(...still waiting...)

One thing I've learned
is that people don't fit inside neat little packages with bows,
of which you can hold onto the strings
as you finish the rest of your shopping,
then stop, sit, and untie the ribbon when you want
to look inside and make sure
that what it contains is still there,
pat it on the head or toss in a few crumbs
from left over whatever you had for dinner last night.
I've learned that strings don't fit around hearts,
that a hand is not big enough to hold the sum total of another being,
and was never meant to.
Instead, I have to walk beside you,
let you be as life sized as you are,
not the neatly cropped 3 by 5 picture I
carry around in my mind
of what I hope you look like
when you make laugh lines.
Instead I have to watch where you'll go
and how,
let you keep pace with me if you choose,
this hammer in my heart pounding away
at a chamber that was never meant to
be your suffocation.


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