Let Go

She stares at the calligraphy littered upon the page like flower petals that were thrown carelessly upon a marital bed;

Full of hope and fantasies of what dreams could be… and hidden underneath are the hushed nightmares of who came before.

None wish for the dark, but we all prefer to pound the pavement in black, eyes sheathed in aviator masks.

How clever, yes? - To call out the games we play and make light of them.

Like so many things, we often make small of what is most important to us.

What do you want?

What do you mean - what do you mean - What do I mean?

What Do I mean?

What do I mean when I say… I say I do not know what I mean.

We want the things we do not speak of,

And we speak of things we do not want.

I mean for many things - don’t you?

Speak up- Speak out loud what you dream, what you desire, what you fear, and what you hold closely to your breast.

Words so easily written are frightening-

But are they?

What do I want?

How frightening are the lies we paint in the sky above our heads- so, so pretty…

So Pretty are the things we strive for, the things we crave.

Blue skies and gray seas- See how pretty the turmoil is…

See the cost of losing your honest truth.

We know what the cost is for hiding.

The city’s skyscrapers yield to the gods who live behind silver screens;

We are slaves to the things we find to cause distress- Are we so small that we discern fact from fiction, reality versus fantasy?

Doubtful-

Her eyes cloud over with hesitation -

How RED our words are when born in heat-

They feel heavy in her hands as she revisits this tomb.

She does not recognize the stake she had held on to so firmly - so hotly - so thoroughly.

What did she mean?

What was it that she wanted?

What does she want?

What does she NEED?

WHAT????

To understand the words that my heart scrawled,

Or to let go of the heat it holds on to.