Poetry

Thank you

For reminding me of who I was

And who I want to be

You were my trial run

I.G.

I hold on to the feeling 

Evidence it was real

Proof I was once whole

A tangible form of my broken self

Swept up

Searching for a spark to ignite the fire

Flames that will fuse together the leftover shards

I am the flint and steel

I.G.

You taught me how to use these hands

Despite the slumber taken from your eyes

I watched yours as you fed, cleaned, and comforted

Asking for nothing in return

These hands I used to care for you when you couldn’t anymore

These hands holding yours

Tighter every night

I would work my hands to the bone to have kept you longer

These hands

Your hands

Remind me how you made me stronger

I.G.

I still have your wrapped present

Tucked under folded clothes and hats

Out of sight so that I don’t think of you

I’ve thought of unwrapping the gift and keeping it for myself

But it belongs to you

To a time we were excited

Sharing stories from our past

Before things turned stale

Forced conversations shortened

Where silence eventually fell

I still have your wrapped present

It belongs to you

To the hope that the silence will be filled

With stories we create together

 And to the unwrapped present in your hands

I.G.

Happiness

A stretched smile across my face?

Or is it the crinkled eyes that make it more believable?

A feeling inside my chest or stomach?

A laugh that escapes my lips?

The uncontrollable bounce of my abdomen?

Finding a $20 bill in my pocket?

Is it identifiable?

Even my memory has failed me

Can I ever find what I have already forgotten?

I.G.

Each labored breath

I counted

Though time stood still 

I counted

As pages turned

I counted 

Though days grew blurred 

I counted

As life continued

I counted

To hold on

I count

I can’t rid myself of the thoughts

Jumbled

Silent and chaotic

Time creates a distance my legs can never cross

My greatest fear is forgetting

The sound of your voice

The contour of your face

The touch and shape of your fingers

Your sweet scent

The perfect way I fit into your arms

Racking my memory to hold on

Without you

I.G.

I am their prey

Captured in their silky webs

Limbs are pinned down

Wrapping around tighter and tighter

Struggling to break free

The battle is exhausting

I am drained of all energy

Fighting back is useless

I am engulfed

Serving as their daily feast

I.G.