It Matters

A lonely Thursday night outside
downtown on the patio just like
every night before it and to come:

I told him the story
about how I almost
left here and why
I made the choice
back then to stay for
as long as this place
will have me

and I could tell
he didn’t understand
my choices but I laughed

thinking I wouldn’t be here
and he wouldn’t be there
if I had decided all those
years ago that I could
do better somewhere else.

He opened the door for me,
I let him walk me home and
when I kissed him goodnight
I knew that he might not
understand what it is
I’m still doing here but
he’s glad that I still am.



I’m not worried
about you.
You know
The score
and that I
keep a running
tally at all times.

Moments like this,
more than any other
that pass between us

I know that you know.
For just that one fleeting
moment you really see:

What you did
and what it’s
done to me.

Someday I will
ask the question.
We both know
how you will answer.

But today is
not that day.

You are not
that man.

And I am not her
anymore, either.
Life is surreal sometimes.



We know more now
than we did then
but what we know
is different and is
not necessarily better.

There is an
inexplicable ache
deep in my gut
that has always
been a part of me.

The empty space where
all the things I forgot
used to hold purchase.

All I can do is hope
that the things I learn
from now on will
move me forward
and not back.

And that I can ignore
the sensation of
sudden remembrance
that washes over me
sometimes when your
fingers entwine mine.



Another year nearly gone.

I know this is only the
first small taste of
what is to come and
I don’t even mind it.

But I can’t help thinking
I let another one go too easily.

It’s cold outside today.
I welcome it, a little,
after what feels like
an eternity of heat.

I always do my best
blooming in the fall.

Just watch me.