musings-on-muses

[musings-on-muses]

[musings-on-muses]

[musings-on-muses]

01/29/2025

If you loved me

Really truly loved me

Would you have sent me out in

That one really bad storm?

It was dark and cold

Rained and sleeted

I had to pull off

More than once

And

you slept.

If you loved me

Unconditionally

Like me

I wouldn’t need to beg

For consideration

And criticized

For wanting it to begin with

Like to be worthy of

Your love

I have to want less of it.

If you loved me

Like we’re mates of soul

Like we’re made for each other

How could you let me

Shake and lay

Awake

In my car

With men and dogs outside

Talking

Touching my car

And didn’t even call

Just text

Your house is 40 minutes

Away.

If you loved me

Like you said you did

I wouldn’t be scared

And you wouldn’t have hit

And I’d be at home

Holding you

Lovin you

Cause I do

I love you

[musings-on-muses]

[musings-on-muses]

[musings-on-muses]

And, suddenly

And suddenly, I don’t feel your weight on me anymore. I can dance with strangers and smile without my eyes shifting for your approval. Suddenly I’m light on my feet and the dances you made fun of bubble out of me joyously.

And suddenly, your ghost isn’t calling my name. Haunting me even in the day, stalking me through halls I never once walked with you. My life is no longer fearful, but fearless. Your spectral form must have found its home.

And even more suddenly, the girl you knew at first with glitter in her eyes and a laugh loud enough to blow speakers has returned in a calliope of sounds and color. She’s here again, writing and singing and dancing and finally - and suddenly - the harm you’ve done is through.

[musings-on-muses]

Big Sky

I still think about Montana. I still think about that kayak fin and the rage it put you in. Remember when I told you that I had wanted to go since I first heard Marie and Dan? Remember how excited I was - I played it as we passed in. (I didn’t tell you but I thought being with you under that big Montana sky could stitch us together again.)

I still remember shivering while we packed up, but not from the water and the wind on my skin. We drove for six hours, we didn’t speak for a minute of one. We slept miles away from each other in the back of your car. We woke up on different continents in that Walmart parking lot.

We drove five more hours. You didn’t speak to me until we passed the state line. It was a game to you, it was a statement to me. I was desperate for your words, I begged you for them. The truth in your denial was deafening. To you, I was nothing and to me, you were everything.

Wilder than Montana, the way life changes.