He Wasn't the Outdoorsy Type
That one place I thought he wouldn't look…
A five-day planned camp in the woods seemed like healing
Until it didn't
Until the hate of all my hurt
developed a skin rash
that itched and burned vengeance on successive nights
driving me outside the tent
on day three at 4:05 AM
scratchy-eyed AF
when the degrees fell prostrate
weighty on my medium thick gray blanket
and Mama’s violet-striped folding lawn chair
A recognizable chill
that crept (like most men do)
as camouflage below suspicion
Imperceptible encroachment
Microscopic alterations of atoms
in silken veneer delicate enough
to wrap claws barely felt
across night and numbers of “me’s”
you actually missed
but didn’t wanna admit
Piercing icicles tap my shoulders
in search
of perspiration droplets for transformation
"Are you on some bloomin’ acid???"
Nettles and pine needles
absent moon and pipistrelle bats with
a blend insert of normality thrown between trees
Beholden yearnings of dripping reach
you speak in silence
through early winter embrace
for bodyweight of my missed warmth
taken for granted
that led to access loss
gentle-laden with sweet ache
now turned
stealth meeting in dead of night
and tears in silver frozen streaks threaten frostbite
as I whisper into your space
Baby
where were you then
and why now
why here
Just why
I'm always in genuine awe when you take the time to read my work. I appreciate your presence, your care and attention in bunches.
In a world full of other things to be doing, your "doing this particular thing" is truly valued. Sincere thanks to and for you!
***
About the Creator
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More stories from The Dani Writer and writers in Poets and other communities.
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Comments (7)
Awe-inspiring! 😱 Gurl you tap danced on this challenge! Pure radiant brilliance!
The hunt comes in so many forms, this one stings - nettles, ur style is unique for sure.
This piece stands out for its raw emotional honesty; the hurt, confusion, and longing are all present without being overstated. You reveal just enough to let readers step directly into the speaker’s isolation.
Love your writing. 💕💗
hi-di ~ I've often been accused of being on "Some kind of Acid..!" Fun Read..! j.k.in.l.a
I like the natural style and how it draws you into the scene. 👏💖
"Piercing icicles tap my shoulders" That line is my favourite! I didn't know about pipistrelle bats, that's so cool. Loved your poem!