Regret

Three years
have come and gone
since I moved
3000 miles
to a place
I'd never been,
never seen,
never knew how to find
on a map
until I had to.

I've settled in now,
rooted down
in a space of my own.
You'd be proud
if those slate blue eyes
could still see me.

I've come back
a couple of times
only to run away again.
Nothing is the same,
maybe it never will be.

Maybe it never was
what I thought it was
in the first place.

I want it back -
the life we had before.
I want to change it all,
be different, do more
because then maybe
I'd still have you
to get advice from,
come home to,
share stories with
instead of the granite
and flower pots
that sit in honor of you.

I'd tell you my secrets
and listen when you spoke
instead of always thinking
I know what you're gonna say
next. I'd live in the moment
and let you live there too
instead of always waiting
for the other shoe to drop.

I never used to regret,
I thought it was useless -
we can't change the past,
only learn from it.
But now I feel it -
the anguish and pain
of "should have", "could have",
"would have" and "if only".

Now I know
how it feels
to live among the ifs,
forever
outside the lines
of happiness
like I was forgotten
here the day you left.

What I wouldn't give
to undo it all
if only
I could be the person
I should have been,
then I would be
all that you dreamed I was.

Insomnia

It's just after 3am
and I can't sleep.
I never really sleep
anymore. I just close
my eyes
and wait for daylight.

The day slips by
without a second glance
and it's night again.
I lie in bed
and try to think
of  a way
to break
the pattern.

When did I sleep last?
Was it before you
or after?
Was I alone?

I can't seem to remember
the answers.

The thoughts in my head
rotate like the blades
of the box fan
I keep on
even in winter -
the air stays cleaner
that way.

It comes back to me
in a flash
like a lightning strike
before dawn
and I remember
the last time slept,
really slept
as if the world
didn't exist
beyond my next breath
and it was in the womb.

Thirty-three years later
I'm still hoping
tonight's the night
I will rest again.

Someday

Everyone told me
you weren't the one
but you never said
anything
as if even you
were still deciding,
still mulling over
if you could be
more
enough
something different
than what you were.

One kiss
One night
Never one word
of warning
that I was in this alone.

Eighteen years later
and you finally tell me
you never felt the same
never wanted more
never looked at me
with the love
I hoped you would someday
feel.

Someday came and went
and what is left?

Six thousand five hundred seventy days
of ifs
is all I have
like I should've known
that what was good for you
that what I could give
and how little I'd ask for in return
wasn't ever going to be
what you wanted.

You have freed me
from the prison
I stuffed myself into
all those years ago,
trying to become someone
I was never going to be -
someone you could love.

I should thank you
for my liberation
but why
did you wait
so long?
What do I have
to look forward to
now?

Take back your words
and lock me back up.
Throw away the key
and let me wait
for someday
to come again.

The Absence in our Present

The words aren't the same
as they were before.
They don't sound different
and they're still spelled the same
but I can't hear
the possibility
in them anymore.

It's like hearing
a song
sung by a man in love
and then hearing it again
after his heart is broken.
The words and notes
did not change
but whatever it was
that made you love
and connect to it
is different.

The love is gone.

We are a melody
that never found
its voice -
a song no one
ever wrote.

We are words
that never found
a sentence -
a story no one
ever told.

I don't miss you
because you're still here.
I don't miss what was
because nothing happened.
I don't miss the memories
we shared
because we never created any.

I just miss the ifs
that I never said out loud.

Spring Awakening

I can tell Spring is near
the frog symphony
outside my window
is evidence enough.

The darkness retreats
from the light
and whispers
of warmer temperatures
linger in the air.

The skeleton branches
of the hydrangea
is now covered
in green leafy skin
and soon its blooms
will adorn the plant
like bright and shining
baubles adorned
for a night on the town.

Soon the bones
of winter
will breathe again
and we will all laugh
in flowers.

Beachfront Daydreams

I daydream

about southern beaches

and warm white sand

I can bury my feet in

as the waves lap at my feet

like a puppy

begging me to play,

wishing I were there

instead of stuck

in the middle of this overcast

wayward Pacific Northwest spring

unsure if it's here to stay.

I can almost feel the hot salt air

whispering across my skin

when a brisk burst of cold

hisses in my face.

Soon I will see you again,

my sweet southern shore

and I will wrap myself

in your sandy arms

until it is a daydream no more.

I blink the ocean lull away

and notice the sun has come out,

all the world shines green

and I remember

this is paradise part two.

Flower Soldiers of Spring

It's April now

and I can breathe

easier

than two weeks ago

but there's still an ache

like the remnants

of pneumonia

or some flu

that stays with me

since the day you left.

The sun is out

and the flowers

are starting to bloom.

It's your favorite time

of year - 

and maybe mine too.

I remember you

smiling bright

under a too-wide

brimmed hat

in the sun

and southern spring heat,

burying your hands

deep

in the earth

with bulbs and seeds,

ready for the new life

to color the yard.

It is your happiness

that still catches

my breath

and burns me

from the inside out

like a disease

that won't leave.

It's cool here

this time of year

but the tulips

and daffodils 

are coming up

in droves,

lining roads

and fields

like soldiers

of happiness.

You'd love them

and that makes 

the ache

fade just enough

so that I can breathe

a little easier

than I did before.