bloggity blog, poetry

and love, anyway

I meditate in poetry
Not inside it
But the words that help to send me off
The thoughts that help to ground me
Are said in a voice that is fluent in metaphor
Bilingual second language
Imagery rich in vision and colour

When I close my eyes I see myself
Not as I look but as I am
I, water woman
Swimming
I, tree woman
Growing
I, woman
Loving

My fictional you is made up of all the bits and pieces
All the parts of all the different yous that I couldn’t bare to part with

He has your eyes like autumn leaves
And your smile like the sun reflecting off a winter’s moon
And your laugh bubbling freely from the stones of the earth and cascading onto my ears
And your mouth, your mouth, your mouth like my mouth as if they are one in the same, fitting together perfectly
And your… no… none of you.

And this is what happens
I start by writing a poem about myself
A poem about me
And it always circles back around to you
I ask myself why
Amberley… Ms Griffin… why the fuck do you do this
But I think I know why

Maybe it is because we are connected somehow
Star crossed, bound by time or fate or destiny

Maybe it is because the universe planted your seed in my brain
And my want is your nourishment
My ungiven love is your rain
And your seed is growing inside me

Maybe it is because
I don’t know how to define myself
without having a yourself
to compare myself to…

Maybe it is all of those things.
Maybe I will never know.
Maybe I will find out when I meet you
Or when I do not

So
In the meantime
I will write poetry
And meditate
And grow
And swim
And love, anyway

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33 thoughts on “and love, anyway”

    1. Oh! I don’t want to make you teary… but thank you for saying so… to be able to move someone so much feels like something other people could do…
      I must admit, I really liked this one. It was a poem that I felt completely happy with when I pressed that post button.
      Thank you, Mr Muffins. BEST FRIENDS! 🖤⚔🦄🖤

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m so happy you love it!
      There was a big chunk of truth in this. And there is no particular “him” that I think about or want to think about. It is more about the idea of that someone. The idea that there is someone out there who could put up with all of this… lmfao
      But yes. They do bewitch us… I think it is the bewitching back that I think of… I dunno. This poem flowed out but it hurt at the same time. This was a long comment… soz!

      Like

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