Saturday, November 21, 2009

Garbage

Where am I?

No where.

i'm in the in-between.

Not quite here. Not there yet.

Alone? No, there are new bonds forming.

But the old ones ache and seem to weaken. Distance grows. Gets away from me.

Who am I?

Hm. First thought? mother, daughter, sister, aunt, wife.

Mother first. But not really. Maybe never.

My fingers are cramped holding on to old dreams. They don't want to let go.

Frozen? no. Calcified.

Break them and start over.

Wife first? Maybe.

Me first? Probably. But how?

Break her and start over.

5 comments:

Michele said...

Honey, they dont have to let go. Even though it hurts to hold on, they dont have to let go. Ever.

Mrs. Spit said...

I don't think we start over, but I think sometimes we begin anew, if that makes sense.

Beruriah said...

Teacher, genius, humorist?

Broken fingers sound very painful. You need someone to rub them until they warm up and can relax, either to keep holding or to move on. That's what we're here for (and also to push your lovely metaphors farther maybe than they really ought to go).

Once A Mother said...

"Break her and start over" I totally understand what you mean. Thinking of you. xx

k@lakly said...

Maybe just loosen the grip a bit and give your hands a little rest.It doesn't mean you are letting go and it doesn't mean you can't also have new dreams. It's all a continuem, not starting over, just navigating the roads that are ahead of us.
xxoo