after years of hoping things would change
and giving in to “well, that’s the way it is,”
look me in eyes and realize
this is who we are,
who we’ve become,
it’s finally come true –
our love’s become old news.
we never lived up to the story of make-believe;
when we face each other
I must believe this is the choice
we’ve been making.
every morning & every night,
from here on out
this the only way to keep going,
alone.
turn these dog-eared pages of our lives
for other truths to be told,
for other hands to hold.
from countless days of emptiness
from your professions,
your attempts at affirmations,
something in me knows better:
there’s more to love than a collection of memories, there’s more to see than foil-wrapped treasuries.
what passed in the space between us?
a moment, a disappointment,
and I leave it all in the past.
what’s to come? a path we’ve never tread, yet time’s been stolen and minutes slip away.
the clock stares and we wait for affections from a new love, a new life in a new bed.
The title comes from a comment Joni Mitchell made when describing the theme of her music, one part hopeful and one part “the portrait of disappointment.”
Watch it as it goes Out the window And out into the world. Watch as it no longer has a home. Watch as it slowly slips through your fingers But somehow you know it had a piece of your soul.
That void is opening, getting larger, Slowly drifting out and now you wish it could come back home, Even for a moment, Just a moment to return the time Where you could embrace it, Or imagine what you could do If you could pause it for a moment, But it’s gone… it’s gone.
And it’s right outside your window, Do you open your window And let it accompany you as you wake? Do you let it sing you to bed at night As your heart slowly breaks?
And you watch it outside your window As it slowly fades away Into the distance, Into a memory That wants to walk away.
Grab onto the memory, Let it linger and comfort you once more. Just right outside the window It’s telling you ‘Can I come in through the door?’
This piece came pouring out after the first two lines came to me in song… Thanks for reading.
Photo by Guillaume Meurice on Pexels.com tears fall from the tips of leaves,
no longer heaving but finally at peace,
no longer a place for relief,
no longer bending to the constant breeze,
no longer kept afloat meandering rivers,
no longer subject to raging fires,
no longer a victim to defeat.
tides no longer pulling at the heart,
stars no longer hovering above,
no longer tormented to be part of the world
that casts itself forcibly upon a need for an anchor,
as the only surviving hope.
life no longer to be cradled within these branches,
the forest now lives inside the heart
of everything we once knew.
One by one counting memories:
An old photograph of us at the beach,
A sweater that won’t rid itself of your scent,
Books and CDs that you lent,
I’ve packed them away
They won’t see another day
I’ve packed the boxes,
Made the plans,
The rooms are empty
But I am motionless
Is it that familiar look?
Is it that morning glow
That paints itself through that morning window?
No, it’s these damn memories that aren’t letting go
He says, “you’ve been a great lover, opened up doors for me, been there when I needed you but I’m going to leave you, woman for I know you could do better than me” He picks up his suitcase, then he’s running out the door
And that’s the way it is that’s the way it’ll always be lovers in and out the revolving door
She says, “I’m going to leave this town so much has been given and I’m grateful for what’s been but I need to get going for I know I could do better” She packs her things, then she’s running out the door
And that’s the way it is that’s the way it’ll always be lovers in and out the revolving door
There’s always a path to something better there’s always something else that will find you all the sweet things that you dream she sends a postcard to check in, say where she’s been but he doesn’t look back, throws all those lost loves into his sack
And that’s the way it is that’s the way it’ll always be lovers who dream and lovers who leave