By Alex Ulman
How does it feel?
That is the question
after all. Like a drop
of rain on its descent
to the world of man. In the beginning
I could look out over everything.
Figuratively speaking.
I’m about to explode but
that will have to wait.
For the director’s cut. Exposed.
These words are all I have left
It’s too late. I’ve made up
my mind. It’s now.
It’s never. The plethora of drops
that surround me reveal similar intentions.
We began our journeys
in roughly the same place. The wind
has pushed us apart. They remind me we aren’t
the only ones. I’m not
the only one.
But you are my-
motivation and I invite the challenge
and the warm embrace that is the end to my means.
Each day I’ll scratch
my feelings and stuff them
into a bottle destined to reach you.
The things I ponder
when I’m alone. Without you.
Tiny hands, broken crayons, empty cans. I wonder
when I wonder. Where
we’re going.
I pray it isn’t too much further.
My feet hurt from running.
The scars on your knuckles, remembrance
of memories I wish you didn’t remember but am inspired you chose
not to-
forget.
I wonder if those cuts are healed. I wonder
how long the doctors will determine
they will remain
in remission.
I wonder if when they resurface, if it will have been my doing.
No.
I won’t
let that happen.
If the scars start to itch
I will soothe them
If the skin starts to burn
I will calm it
If your heart starts to question
I will answer it.
I’d hate to say “goodbye”
to all the metaphors and lies
that have found me here with you.
I’ve landed in this strange new place.
Straight from pages to memory.
- - -
I’m a student at Marquette University. I enjoy playing tennis and guitar. The emotional poem from March 10th of dailylove.net was inspiration for this poem.
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