INSIDE DUALITY.
Old photos remain on my desktop. Though I changed the background on my desktop, I am unable to delete two, very specific photos. IMG-9191.jpg and IMG_9192.jpg.
From on top of the world, together.
Do you remember the way the trees smelled and swayed?
I don’t believe you wanted to take those photos with me. You never actually seemed like you wanted to let time stand still for us. I don’t know what you actually even liked about what we had, or me in general. It seemed like everything I did was too this or too that. Did we even have anything? Or did you just like me around, because I made things comfortable? How can I possibly make sense of letting go, when I still hear your words “You’re too sensitive, it’s all in your head.”
The reality I’m attempting to come to terms with is that it’s not my fault. The reality that I am attempting to come to terms with is one which I don’t understand. I am stuck inside the duality of holding on and letting go, all at once.
How DO I LET GO, NOW?
How can I experience anything less trivial in a world which is so far removed from simplicity?
The photos here are my attempts to rewrite what has been contained within me.
Every song reminds me of you.
The last time I was here, your feet were walking beside mine.
I’m still inspired by you, can you tell?
I don’t know if I’m ready yet. I keep wavering between accepting the parts that don’t want to be rewritten, and I honor the transformations my mind does choose to take.
All of this is so vague, I know.
But that’s just how I feel at this point in time. Numb, laden with the burden of forceful self-reminders to myself of where I am now and what I have.
Nothing has been erased or undo’d, and in my world of of command-Z, I am trying to let go of what continues to linger. I make excuses. I control what I can, I am attempting to feel like myself again.
Each day is simpler now,
this I can confirm.
Hope is no longer apart of my
emotional stature, unfortunately.
My dreams frighten me. They are vivid, too realistic,
and they keep me awake at night.
I miss you dearly,
even though you hurt me.
IN SMALL PIECES, SLOWLY. LIKE THE COYOTE EATING HIS DINNER.
I’m in a standstill. The maple syrup I purchased is just large enough for one person. I’m not actually sure why anyone needs so little maple syrup. But I was drawn to the $2.39 bottle, as I struggled to maintain my composure in the aisles of Target. Everything reminds me of you.
