She leans against a pylon in the empty train stop. Her hair is blowing in the breeze and the sounds of the rustling leaves fills her head. The season is changing.
She is not yet where she hoped to be in this new season. She is no where near where she wanted to be. Actually, she hasn’t tried to change at all.
A plane flies overhead and she can feel the rumble of the engine vibrating in her feet. She wants to run but she is paralyzed. Her feet are detached from her brain. Her toes are rooted through the cement beneath her feet, dug deep underground amongst the dirt, amongst the bugs.
A blown leaf catches on her foot. She looks down and moves her feet apart. She has been a barrier for herself. She doesn’t want to block anyone or anything else. The leaf loses grip and floats away with the wind, to continue its destiny.
I want to be more than what I am.
living wild and free
the white horse plagues me
desires and dreams
under the waxing
gibbous moon we say goodbye
last evening of five
I’m standing on the stairway at the end of the beige corridor. The lights are low. The tone of the scene matches my insides. Dark and worried. Silent.
I glance down the hallway and she is in the doorway. He had knocked on her door looking for me. They both turn my direction, looking my way as if they were deer in the night.
She is peeking at me from the 5 inch crack in the door. He face is pale and worried. Her hair is up and frazzled. She stands there in her vintage pajamas, pastel and faded. She is giving off a low, frightened energy. It seems like he may have interrupted her while she was crying in there alone.
When we meet eyes, she frowns at me in the most loving way you could imagine. I don’t return the look. I stare; blank. Empty. Bleak and broken.
Our pain is so similar, yet nothing alike. When my pain freezes me in time, her pain shatters her entire world. When my pain rings loudly in everyone’s’ ears and runs red streaks throughout my sight, her pain doesn’t make a peep. Even though our pain speaks different truths, it is still pain.
I keep replaying this 10 second moment in my head. I have guilt for not returning the look. I was too strong in my emptiness. I regret not saying hello earlier in the evening. I regret not smiling in that moment.
I should have conveyed that we are wearing the same shields. I should’ve conveyed that we are on the same muddy battlefield, giving it our all, fighting the same war. I should’ve conveyed that we were allies, at risk for losing the same thing. We must gaurd our lives together as a team.
Show off his craft and woodworking, the pieces of his time.
Remember the things he enjoyed, his love of deep red wine.
Rest in the home together, the one that he built with you in mind.
Hold one another close, and finally say goodbye.