Do you ever stop loving someone? Do you really? Can you show
me how? How do you turn off the flood of multicolored emotions; the
outpouring of soul, that deep well, that never runs dry, when that pig-headed,
love-embedded, excuse of a summer breeze walks on by?
Perhaps soul mates really exist. I don’t mean that one miserable
heart-crushing single one, but the whole shebang! What if when you love with
your heart on your sleeve, you let in as many pieces of your past loves into
your soul and they sink their teeth into your heart and make permanent
residence; and they come along with concrete and heavy-duty padlocks and within
a heartbeat lay siege to your soul? Never
to part with you.
My poor dented heart is multifaceted. It does its purpose
with due diligence, twinkles in the light of the love that resides within. So many
pieces of you and you and you, keep on shimmering in the light of your poorly
subdued memory. Why can’t I forget! Why do
my poor limbs get excited so. Poor little
drummer boy, cant you see she dances for another now? Why keep the lantern
bright, yet you and I know she was never lost at sea, she simply did not return
to you.
Why do my eyes smart so at the memory of your skin, your
kisses, and your embrace? Did I ever belong anywhere else? I belonged with you,
and you and you. And you and you and you all took something that belongs to me.
You took me out of the box and I was shiny and new and now I am a rag doll,
thrown to the side. Why does every atom in my body respond the way it does to
the memory of you and you and you. Was I ever whole, or did I come in parts and
they fitted well where they ended up, but I still hold onto the farce that I existed
but as slivers of the past loves who gave me a home.
I am learning to be human, and step one is, this is it…the
story of my life outside of my person…
