Hello love
22238 (Aug 26, 2022)
I’m sorry Love,
I couldn’t show up today.
I tried to get out of bed,
But just couldn’t,
Striken by whatever overcame me.
I know it looks like nothing.
But the tethers are real.
Unseen but strong.
Bondage without a safe word.
I’m sorry Love.
I couldn’t call myself to the world you’re in today.
I tried but I failed.
My mind stays wandering and lost in caverns I can’t locate.
GPS is futile here.
This is not a world made to be found,
Uninhabitable for more than one.
It’s lonely but familiar,
Built from memoirs and moments passed,
Preserved on repeat play,
Over and over again,
I suppose they will live on forever,
Until I lose my mind,
Or breath.
Whatever comes first.
I’m sorry Love,
I couldn’t hear you today.
Strong winds and howling sounds ring like sirens in my head,
Unheard by anyone but me.
They resonate sharply,
Engulfing any external news,
Toying with sense and reason.
It’s an attention whore in the limelight,
Nothing else can be heard.
Only its wailing.
I’m sorry Love,
I couldn’t speak today.
The words were on the tip of my tongue,
But my mind wouldn’t let them go,
So I couldn’t say what I wanted to say to you.
I wish my throat could summon the sounds of what I wanted to tell you.
The message I so utterly wanted to share,
But the lines were crossed and synapses unfired.
I wish we could speak through ESP more than ever in those times.
I’m sorry Love,
I couldn’t see you today.
Oh and how I wanted to see you.
Really see you.
My eyes blurred every time they opened.
And the world spins whenever I look left,
Apparently I look left pretty frequently.
And left turns to right.
Or is that upside down?
I can’t tell what the signs are telling me.
Is that a stop? Or a go?
So I close them and only see the stripes of neon brights,
Wandering through closed eyes.
Imagining a world where everything was clear,
Including size 10 font, your face and soul, messages and intentions.
I’m sorry Love,
I could’t do the things I promised to do today.
The plants are unwatered and I hope that tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow will be better,
Before they dry to a sad crisp,
Seemingly like I don’t care.
But I do so deeply,
That my body aches from not being able to move and coordinate.
Anxious I can’t be productive and make the things I said I would make.
Call the people I said I’d call,
And clean the things I’d meant to clean.
Laundry waiting impatiently as well as my desk, recycling, inner baggage and relationships,
Piling one piece of dust at a time.
Taunting me with their accumulating weight.
I’m sorry Love.
This is me today.
I hope you can love me as I am,
See the entirety of my soul,
And remember that I love,
Even when I can’t show up.
I say this….
As I ask myself,
Who am I if I can’t show up?