I wonder
if you wear that t-shirt now
and think of me.
Author: restlesscrescent
I write when I feel. I write to release and to share. This is my poetry. Most hours I spend on others, listening while I work as a therapist. This is a space for me. I hope you enjoy the pieces of self I choose to share with you.
Loss
There is an understanding
that emerges
with the experience of loss.
It's an emptiness
and fullness.
Grief mixed with hope.
It could be
two people
in different life events,
unmatched feelings,
let downs.
Whether potential is not met
or another chooses
to withhold contact,
it seems important to lose
because it means
one was open
to gain.
The loneliness remains
in the idea
that one day
there could be
connection and joy
in the company of another.
There seems to be
something compelling
in the act
of losing the potential
of another.
I want to acknowledge
that loss
doesn't mean
something was lost.
Thoughts in my car at 11pm
I want to know why you don’t
like my posts on
social media anymore.
Dreamworld
The other night,
I found you in a dream.
You were tender and kind
and offered momentary affection.
Even in this dreamworld
you left.
I awoke
feeling emptied of
the intense intimacy
you could provide
and chose
to take
away.
Shoreline
Paused,
I stood on the boardwalk
unsure of how close
to the Atlantic's edge
I could allow
my planted feet.
I slept on the beach
as the sun drifted
to horizon
and I still
could not touch my
body to the
water.
I knew then
that if I
sought peace
at the shoreline
I would find myself there.
Yearning and sad.
Emptying what
came before
and making space
for the new.
Unsure if I could
continue grieving
what came and went,
what did not
happen.
Hoping for more
and fearing the possibility
all at once.
The shoreline contained
both open and closed ends
of whatever it is
that led me to the ocean water.
The shore revealed
all parts of me
alone and seeking
something other
than the company
of my own mind.
And so I left
the ocean
and its company
a day early
because I was not ready
to hold
what its waters
led me
to face.
There is no voice louder than my own (lavender)
I wish I could describe
the voice in my head,
with all its power,
as kind.
As a friend.
On its fifth hour
of circling around
with reminders
of what I do not deserve,
I look to another voice
any other sound,
to silence my own.
A friend sends me the song
"Lavender".
For a moment,
my mind calms.
My chest makes space
for breath.
After a few minutes
of peaceful silence
I let me voice speak.
This time it's easier on me.
Maybe the voice in my head
is in need of a friend.
A kind word.
An embrace.
Some lavender.
a reminder
you are worthy
you are worthy
you are worthy
you are worthy
you are worthy
you are worthy
you are powerful
you are enough for all that you need
you are deserving of love
you are worthy
you are worthy
I, too, am.
