They stay together our of
loneliness; never quite trusting enough in
themselves to allow them to stand on their own.
I remember when it used to seem that way
for me. It was so long ago, and so surreal now.
Those days when in the thrall of unidentified
emotions, I clung to what little I knew
and chose, time and again, to call the real.
Back then, the world at large
would call me
good and right, for so we’ve learned to live
within the roles of others’ rules and codes,
no matter the unhappiness we feel. It could
be calm, now and again, within that life of
others’ making; but never so serene as this.
Bliss was a word that was unsayable back then,
and love no more than just another platitude,
that we’d mouth just when expected to. How
often do our words belie just what we truly
But you see, these days, mine
do, in a
freedom of expression few have ever come
to know of or experience. At times I find
my words accepted; almost in a sense of
reverence. At other time, the anger of
denial and rejection tries to wound my
greater sensibility. For some who are
unfree and limited in their perception,
resent the difference that I represent
to them; while others simply marvel,
never grasping for the truth of
understanding for themselves.
Shall I fabricate another
tale for you,
within this mysterious silence of our distance;
that ever opens out into infinity? Perhaps
of touch so sensual, an ecstasy arrives
all unattended, just for you. But even then,
once the tale has been written, ‘tis I that
must imbibe in all the bitter waters you
deny yet choose to live, composed of all
the in between you choose to leave so
unexplained and thus misunderstood.
I remember though, too poignantly,
the decisions that you made back then;
and how you chose not to consider
what the gist of their reality might
bring about for me. And I no longer wish
to keep you all together there, so far away,
at the price of me just falling all apart. Too
steep the price, too cruel this punishment,
that you still wish to just inflict on me.
And so I write again, of undiluted
even as you choose no more than just
to stay together where you used to be –
so utterly unfree and unforgiven...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...