Monday, 4 May 2015

Never Really There.

I take the train to the other side of London...
Some people go out running to decipher things
Their brains are unwilling to give up easily to them.
I sit in silence, I walk. I watch other people -
With awe and love and...understanding.
Finally I stumble upon forgiveness.
That was held out of reach because of the tangle of pain
In the way. Enough love will mend
The most broken of things.
The most wounded of hearts.

Maybe he knew that he was leaving.
Perhaps he was always leaving, or...
Perhaps he was never really there.
He didn't want us to hold on to him,
So tight. Maybe now I understand it.
How it's possible for someone to leave you,
Even though they love you.
How being responsible for another tiny being
Can scare you utterly shitless. By showing you yourself.
Somehow you think that by the time you have children,
You will not be vulnerable anymore.
How doing the best thing, can be the worst
Depending on perspective.

Long ago I learnt,
To be alone.
Even when I wasn't.
It was the only way to stop people leaving.
The only way not to be the one who left.

Never exist anywhere deeply enough to root.
Leave when it begins to feel,
That leaving will rip out your heart.
As punishment.
For trying to escape your ingrained solitude.
It's a learning curve.
The further I get from the lesson,
The harder I spring back.
People will devour you if you let them...
You devour yourself instead.

But however strongly I long to stay hidden
I long more to feel safe being found.




 

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