What I saw, shredded me for no reason
other than this season I walk in.
I tried to break free from the replay
stuck on rotate in slow mo.
It’s me, and you, turned into something
I can’t contain under another fear based
hold of my own making.
Mistaking things I thought I could handle
but these shambles have no foundation
upon which to build a new safe station,
only crosses born through rotations of
broken things and misplaced blame games.
I wish, more than I can explain,
a finger snap could empty my map
of all previous pieces but my wish continues
ungranted while my slanted establishment
needs a cornerstone to replace the one
I’ve had on loan for unknown years.
I’ve shown you inside my cages.
Shined a light where the waste has stagnated.
You have taken tiny breaths of what I could provide you
but so much of me is being recreated,
I’m still tasting the pangs of death and broken promises.
Double crosses left me beside the road,
down on my knees inhaling ashes of incinerated pages,
Telling of places the wedded we walked
while my ring was used like a muzzle
to keep me puzzled, panicked and hopeless.
The tender touch with which you suddenly surrounded me
was nothing I could have expected.
You see, this pitiful piece of me
keeps furiously hoping for resurrected things
to replace my cages like lightning strikes
but no matter how fast I snap these fingers
my soiled wounds linger.
What I saw proved to be more than I can move
aside or step around or climb over.
Stuck in concrete I scream and cry
at all the whys I’ve had to hide
but now must slip, slide and smash through walls
until these weights break away.
I hope and pray for another day
to come like those sweet surprises in the grocery store.
It’s me, and you, I feel like a freak
to do this but I must, because I can’t trust
my wounds won’t swallow you whole.
I do believe this beautiful flame
that consumed so much so quickly
can turn down and become a pilot light
hiding inside, burning small and slow
until it’s time to heat the fluids of love again
when here within I contain no cages
of stagnate waste in which to baste my insecurities.
I make no promises, only that I will heal
over time and rebuild what was a good man
into a better man who will enjoy love again
within a safe place remade and unconstrained
by these chains I currently carry.
Sometimes you must heal from your past before you can move forward into healthy relationships. If rushed, the scars from the past can take over the present and destroy things that could promise a bright future. Healing is imperative.
By David Falconer, Photographer (NARA record: 1427627) (U.S. National Archives and Records Administration) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons