He’s slowly curing me
of the regret
I’ve been swimming in.
The regret of
breaking a heart
so determined to love me.
A day at the beach,
but in the midst
of a hurricane.
He is the undertow
that catches me
three steps
before the shoreline.
I am shredded by the coral.
Ankles over shoulders,
minus the pleasure.
Begging and bleeding
for the decency
to let me have
the solitary smiles
that don’t just appear
without effort.
It is a constant manipulation
of the mind.
Perpetual bargaining moments
with my Heavenly Father.
I’ll take what you’ll allow me to,
I promise Him.
When the peace of His promise
washes over me
so does the undertow.
Angry for every resolution
that doesn’t include him.
The pain is a cure
I would rather
live without.
It is also washing away
the fondness.
The friendship.
The love.
When you love someone
their happiness is
more important than
the pain of acceptance.
Time and again I remind him
That I am not responsible
for his happiness.
Time and again I remind him
I never was.
But still I am
shredded and embedded.
The coral apologetically
cutting into scabs,
and in the aftermath I
bathe myself in lavender salts
while a balm of Coltrane
and Miles Davis
plays in the ethereal glow
of my Bluetooth speaker.
Patty Griffin and Norah Jones.
Karin Allyson and Billie Holliday.
The tears are a slow trickle
in the recharge.
Every day I am
A little stronger.
My skin thickening
to leather.
Tomorrow I will be ready
For another round.
One day the undertow
will only be a tickle.
One day I’ll make it
to the shore and
bask in the warmth
of a future I fought for
with every cell in my body,
and I will be triumphant.
