Triptych

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{Circles}

It was by accident that you found yourself meeting the marker that symbolised a circle. Anniversaries, birthdays, the recurrence of your losses. You don’t like numbering your days but when you do, the wasted ones that fall away are lessons you needed.

Time has wound itself back and closed the loop you had been lost in. It was an anomaly. Tangled up in something new and beautiful, pause and take cognisance of how far you have come. A thousand soft mutterings of gratitude rise up, joy gripped by fingers that clutched at the hairs of joy.  Happiness was here, in those unexpected places. The cul de sacs you did not dream of wandering and avenues you didn't look at befoe. Here was far away from him, finally. Goodbye is a sweet relief.

He had called out to you. Of course, he had on this day that meant more to him than it ever meant to your reluctant heart. He strained for the last hint of softness from her summer soul and was given a cool pebble. He needed to swallow those rocks he had piled on your body, in his rivers of tears. Wash the chambers of your heart and rub bleach into the walls, where it had grown dark and smoke stained.

There are more pressing concerns that wait in draughty corridors and in coffee shops that smelled of cinnamon. There were untold joys waiting for you that seemed unfathomable. Take delight in the unknown form they will take. Leave everything else behind.

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{Those parts between}

I know that my mind is a wild tangle of far too many things at once, and you shouldn’t feel burdened with the task of untangling them to lay in straight lines. Leave them be, in the knots and twists that I enjoy running my fingertips over. I don’t mind the tangles, the way you don’t mind the curls that frame my eyes softly. I know how I can seem all the time. I run the risk of being a little too much, which is also ok.

Of course, I know how it comes across, it can seem that I have spread my heart out far and wide.  That the embers of my soul have dappled many faces with soft light. That the space you occupy between my ribs is a waiting room that you might soon be asked to vacate. Don’t misinterpret this seat you have, it is not a proposal of continuity. It is merely where you are. You don’t owe me a seat between your sternum and next to your lungs.

Because people like me give out that sort of affection, it seems. The kind that seems to wash over you. And the question arises about whether this is how I am with everyone. I know how I can seem sometimes. That my heart overflows with buckets of empathy and nostalgia and that the cool relief of practicality does not often grace me with its presence. It does, sometimes.

But do not misunderstand my affections, dear.

It is that cusp on the edge of not knowing and knowing everything that intrigues me, despite my tendency to ramble down long paths of naval gazing.  I want to know, although I seem to forget to ask the questions that need asking. I know I can be a thunderstorm of words, baring my soul in that casual way that I hope you know doesn’t need reciprocation. None of it requires reciprocal action. I am surprised at how content I am with this, as it is. The faded lines that could be here or there. But it leaves so much open to misunderstanding.

Because I know how I can seem, and truly it is far simpler than that.

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{Futility is a Loop}

You are ribbons of satin braided into my hair and tough sinew caught between my teeth. Taking up space in my lungs, tracing the outlines of my dilated pupils and the thought that comes when the world goes quiet. Don’t mistake my softness for emotions that should not be there. I can see the form you take and it is terrifying beauty.

Just because kindness is an unfamiliar daisy, growing through the pavement cracks- it shouldn’t be seen as more than it is. Misunderstanding my affections would not bear the fruit you think it would and I seem to misunderstand you all the time.

Retracing my steps, descending from the mountains- I misunderstood you at every turn.

I must run the frayed ends against a flame, cauterise the wound and try not to salt it with tears. Sew the edges up again. Close the loop because it is one of futility. Go on, forget, move on. Why didn’t you run sooner?

You are right to flee. I am a force of nature. But by god, you were a magnificent tragedy too.