6 Weeks Ago…

I wrote this then. I wrote it to get it off my chest when I knew it was too fragile to say out loud and because…

Well, because I’m much better at written words than verbal ones. I can write you a great essay, but I’ll suck at any debate. I can give you my thoughts, but without pen and paper they’re not going to be concise and I’ll forget everything that I need to say.

It doesn’t need much figuring out. I don’t ask you to analyse it. I’m not sure I want you to. But now I feel like sharing. Now I feel, for some reason, that I have to set it free. Maybe it’s supposed to help in some way.

I guess we’ll see.

 

Sometimes I sit & murmur
Things I cannot say
To your face.
We have many of these conversations
Where I am unafraid
And you do not interrupt with hurried word.
It is not that you are a bad person
But that I am timid
And not all I feel can be said,
Expressed or emptied
Into your lap.
I worry.
Anxiety is my middle ground
Holding me between nothingness
And blind panic.
I worry about love & pain.
I worry about your love & pain.
My heart is too fragile to mention easily
But in these imagined conversations,
Where you don’t speak,
I tell you I love you
And I am not afraid
Of the consequences, unspoken responses,
Expressions of reproach;
For in those imagined moments,
I am yours,
Wholly & truly,
Like a promise whispered in the dark.

Apologies for the double post in one day. Check the earlier one for more glad tidings about my blogging award.

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1 thought on “6 Weeks Ago…”

  1. Thank you for sharing this. I definitely feel a connection to this piece, and particularly identify with anxiety as the middle ground between nothing and panic.
    I'm better at writing than speaking too, there's just something about being able to think it out and go back and edit that I wish I had in live conversations.

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