Tonight under the clearest skies I look out through Thinking of you Baptizing stars with strangers’ names Wondering which is yours I blink and in an instant One of them is gone
This is a poem – a letter to myself – I wrote about ten years ago. Reading it back today made me smile. I have become the woman I wanted to be then. Twenty-year old me would be proud. This ten-year-older, future version of herself is just like she had envisioned.
Traces of the past have been marked On the rocks freed from the icy touch. Lying on the ground, restless, aware Her age old body is shrinking, Breaking apart, melting away.
Very few people see beyond appearances. It takes them forever to see me for who I really am. Here though, right there on screen, you can see right through me. There is no need to read between my lines. I make it clear. My soul is exposed, yet I am serene.
“If and when love happens to you and me, it will be special. It will shake our worlds upside down and lift up all the specks gathering on our shelves – up to the skies and let them rain down again.
There are days when I feel like I have all the time in the world. Days when I feel patient, when I have this idea that everything will turn out all right. And there are days like today, when I don’t feel like it is going to be okay at all.
Memories live in the past. If it is a present you want, and hopefully a future at her side, Don’t wait up. Hold her close and tell her You don’t want to look back.
“There was this tingling feeling all over me. It was within me too. Tiny specks of unknown matter were popping on my skin with a prick, rushing there in waves – some cold as ice, and others hot as fire. I could sense their force in my flesh and bones.
Is it the right time? Am I smiling, laughing? Looking absent? Is my heart taken, torn, or ready to welcome yours? You have observed me, so, obviously, You feel you know all about me. Still. Inquire before you assume. You could be surprised.
I require a sharp harness, a remote, high-tech device to take control. I cannot wait. It is slipping away. Evading. Passing by. I cannot capture it. I cannot pause it, Nor stop it, I need to tame it, Bend it
Here comes my riddle, So listen closely. “My whole is a powerful link that can’t be accessed in a blink. It is not… A secret. Well-kept. Guarded. Hidden. Yet it is… Preserved, So precious, lovely and tender, to some, it has come to sound unattainable.