Damaged

Sometimes I feel
very conspicuous
sure that everyone can see
the places where I am broken
just how damaged I am

Sometimes I think
people don’t see me at all
or, like I so often do,
see only what they want from me
or wish they could avoid

Sometimes I realize
that the people around me
are a lot more like me,
broken and scared and lonely
than I am quite comfortable with

But at least in those moments
I can get lost in the act
of ministering to them

But only when I
can step outside of myself
long enough to see
how broken they are,
to see past what I want from them
or wish I could avoid in them

Which isn’t easy
when you feel very conspicuous
sure that everyone can see
just how damaged you are

Blessing

With anxious hands
I ripped the wrapping
joyously accepted
the gift bestowed
now
I am unraveling
the bitterness
in the moments
when everything is pain
I can not curse
for all I can see
is the blessing
I so willingly
accepted

Cold Rain

The cold rain
tap tap taps
on my window
reminding me
calling out to me
with every gust of wind
with every stinging drop
of its constant arrhythmic beat
scratching on my window
begging for my warmth
a despondent Catherine
for my brooding beastly self

***
Funny, I don't feel particularly beastly... :-P

Disordered

Beneath a San Antonio sky
you tried to hold me
tried to hold me, but I
didn’t trust you, couldn’t trust
couldn’t imagine a thing such as us
and thought that was easier

Beneath April’s fickle stars
you tried to kiss me
while I tried too hard
to make you love me
not just to make love to me
but it wasn’t me you loved

Beneath a single lamp pole
I tried to hold you
cried while I tried to scold
but you couldn’t hear me
couldn’t bear to be near me
already a fifth away

Beneath an army issue sun
I wanted to chase you
but you would not, could not run
so I chased the darkness
tried to cut out the hardness
and wept only bloody tears

Beneath a sky that alone was true
I was being me
and you were being you
your blue eyes faded like the sky
you stole a kiss and said goodbye
and maybe that was best

***
Although I wrote a lot (of garbage mostly) in San An, I haven't written much about San An. This is new, it leaped, largely formed, from a stray thought I suddenly had about Theresa. She's one of the people that I'd really like to apologize to. If you think you are her, drop me a line...

Something, someone

There is something happening
I knew sitting on the platform
feeling the air moving
ahead of the train

There is something pushing
I realized walking home
feeling the heat pouring
off of brick buildings

There is something growing
I sensed standing at the gate
feeling the lie slipping
out of my mouth

There is someone hiding
I guessed under the streetlight
feeling the tears rising
up from the shadows

***
The first two stanzas are based on real experiences, one sitting in a MARTA station Saturday afternoon, the second walking back to my car after a late evening meeting on campus yesterday. The second two just developed from the rhythm.

Today

Fall fell today
no calendar to tell me
just leaden grey sky
the gusty wind
the words on the lips of a friend
not Autumn
Fall

Fall fell today
not colored leaves
but thin sunlight
how the air smells
I suspected last night
did not arrive
fell

Fall fell today
no equinox
just a harvest moon
the breeze whispering
empty secrets
not last night
today

Birthday thoughts

Sometimes, on chilly mornings
like today
I imagine you sitting with me
cups of coffee warming our hands
shoulder to shoulder
watching the sunrise paint the clouds
listening to the peculiar song that is
the world waking up around us
knowing you,
at least as well as I could get to know you,
that your eyelids would be flagging
wishing that you were nestled
still and warm in bed
that you are only up this early
to be with me
and how I wish
that hadn’t been taken from us

***
Happy birthday, Momma. I miss you.