Loving

 

I loved touching him,

I loved being touched.

I loved holding him,

I loved being held.

I loved kissing him,

I loved being kissed.

I loved loving him,

I loved being loved.

But he is gone

And has taken with him the

Touching,

Holding,

Kissing, and

Loving.

The once warm darkness we shared in early morning loving

Is now empty and cold.

Memories are all I have left.

My sorrow is complete.

I Don’t Know

 Lonely hearts,

Collect cobwebs in the corner.

While words left unspoken,

Hang like dust motes in the sunshine.

But Life goes on with paths un-taken, names forgotten, hearts neglected.

A love was left behind,

Unwanted.

Where did it go?

Is there a place for misplaced love?

A place where it is held

And comforted or does it just dissipate slowly

Like dew in the sunshine…

I don’t know.

I just

Don’t

Know…

Epic Love

That epic love, the one we can only know in our deepest heartspace, the one that remains in secret just below the surface, always.  The one we don’t speak of, ever…

It is a love other women of deep emotion and passion will understand as they have felt it too.

That one where all the signs and signals said beware, stay away,

But you didn’t, you couldn’t.

It was the Cinderella fantasy come to life.

A love too good to be true,

And was.

But it remains a time and a love that will stay in your heart and at the edge of your mind forever.

One that brings tears in the present but fond, soft and gentle memories in the future.

A love that was never meant to last, there was too much passion.  It was too intense and raw to be maintained for long.

It came into your heart like an avalanche of emotion, a storm of lust, a tide of love to overtake your Being and then just as violently as it came, it was gone, leaving you lost and heartbroken. 

But in spite of all the pain, it changed you for the better into a woman who felt a love she will never forget, never imagined was possible and will never repeat.

But then, if you are honest with yourself, you knew from the beginning that it was never really yours to keep,

Didn’t you…

The One that Became the Last

 

The sky is happy to hold you,

While the earth and I still mourn your leaving.

They say that time heals but all these years have not healed my heart and

The emptiness of your absence remains strong within me and here in this place,

 

Although this field where I stand remains the eternal now

As it was when you and I walked here together.

The scent of its grass brings my heart and memory back to you every time and

Makes me wonder if the flowers blooming here remember our footsteps and loving among them?

I visit here often and breathe in the scent of this place and remember what it held for us, just you and me, and then I hide behind that memory’s peace where my heart is soothed, but only for just a while.

And at sunset, sadness returns again to dampen the grass and hold still my heartbeat in that remembrance.

Yet despite the passage of time and depth of my sorrow, this place appears to be unchanged

From when we walked its paths together, hand in hand as if we had all the time in the world.

But when I look deeper, I know it is unchanged on the surface only and, like me,

Still holds its breath and waits, and sighs and wonders why…

Why does the sky get to hold you so close while it and my heart long for your footsteps,

The sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, and the light of your smile?

The answer never comes and as

The sun sets and the horizon grows dark

And takes you away from me, again,

 I wonder…

Do you remember the first time?

The one that became the last?

She is Not a Quitter

 

My little heart keeps asking me “why?”

I hear her tiny voice in the quiet early morning hours,

but I have no answer for her.

She has stayed up all night again.

Thinking about the past, feeling the pain and sorrow of the now.

She has fallen into a deep dark pit,

Her little voice echos off the steep, cold sides.

I keep reaching out to her but her tiny hands

Have not the strength to hold on.

So she sinks back to the bottom and

Remains in sorrow and darkness.

It is so painful to witness this.

She used to be such a happy little thing,

Always positive, always trusting.

Albeit, sometimes a bit too naive for her own good,

But it was a naiveté not based on stupidity or ignorance but

One based on a choice to trust and believe in spite of the red flags not to.

I am afraid for her, she is tired and there are

Beasts down there with her in the darkness.

They are evil, heartless beasts who lie to her,

Who tell her she is not good enough, that she is unlovable and a fool.

They sneak in while she sleeps and

Whisper doubts in her ear.

I keep trying to tell her to be strong and not listen to their lies,

But I don’t think she can hear me yet.

So, I wait on the edge of the pit

With an open mind and open hand to catch her the next time she climbs to within my reach.

I don’t mind waiting.

I know she will try again soon in spite of her pain and sorrow.

I have faith in her – she is not a quitter.

Soft Sadness (April 2015/with edits)

The silence of midnight is

The silence of wanting.

It is dark and lonely. 

A time soft with sadness

Until the memories sneak back in

and bring with them a scent, or a look

And it is almost enough, almost

But not quite.

 I know I will long for that touch

That voice, that look,

Until once again he comes back and turns the silence of longing

Into loving.

A time when my sorrow will be erased by his touch,

His hand in mine and

His kiss will fill my sole like

A light in the darkness.

Yet again…

Still,

I know, as I have all along that 

The darkness will return and

He will never be mine to keep.

Loneliness at Dusk (re-post from 2015)

He is still here at times, but in body only

His soul has left me.

I miss him most at dusk, when the day’s work has ended

And evenings past times have yet to begin.

Those times in our past when dinner was cooking in the kitchen and

Warm light filled the house.

When before dinner we would walk hand in hand through the

Gardens, across the fields to the edge of the wood

Where the songs of night

Drifted in from the forest and filled our senses.

The essences of early evening,

A feeling more than a time wherein.

We were love and completeness.

We would finish our dinner in the kitchen and

Take our wine to the porch and watch as

The last light faded from the landscape while

The sun’s glow lingered in the treetops.

Evening deepened and the world stopped spinning.

All was calm, all was quiet. And when the hour was late,

We would climb the stairs together and

Sink into our inviting bed.

He always began by sliding his hands over my body as

An expression of his love.

I could feel the heart of his passion

Against my lips.

As his smoking soul ignited the

Fire in my heart,

We would come together in light and love.

The passion almost too much to take as

He whispered words of love and lust in

My ear and held my body and life together in his arms.

It was at those times that my soul threatened to spill out of my body

And wash away in the heat of the moment,

But his strength held it back

Covering it with his love, protecting me from myself.

And each time, as the lovemaking ended and his body

Lay hot and limp on mine,

I would look into his eyes and know,

Just know, that the world, our world, was as it should be.

In that moment I had no darkness to fear, no sadness to run from

Could feel no distance between us in the night.

Instead, the darkness was comforting in its

Completeness, the totality of its effect sealed our fate each and every time.

But in spite of the lust, the passion and heat, in spite of

A love that felt as if it transcended time and space

There came a change.

A change that for me meant an emptying of hopes, an end to dreams, and the pain of knowing that after all the sincerity in the darkness,

It was just a lie and my love would never be returned.

And so it remains a love, a hope, a memory and a dream held only by one

Struggling to survive in a lonely bed at dusk.

The Missing Piece

I am tired,

Tired of fighting myself.

I have improved; I have found a way,

A good and honest way,

But the old ways and feelings

Die hard in spite of what I want.

I don’t want to feel this anymore

I want it to go away – completely.

But I know it never will.

It can’t until I do, and even then…

It has become a part of me,

Not the me you see but

The me I know

And that me doesn’t know how to erase it completely.

There is no erase button,

No permanent “delete” option.

My Being accepts that fact and holds him still,

Not because of me, but in spite of me.

Some days, when I am not aware,

That I am even thinking about him

It breaks through again in silent,

Unbidden tears.

Are they for me?

Or him?

Are they for a way that should have been,

A way that needed to be but wasn’t?

I guess I will never know.

They say it doesn’t matter as it is no more.

It is not present in the now, only in the past.

But I think my Being left a little piece of me behind when it moved on.

It is that little piece of me that still belongs to him

That I miss most.