mei

tonight the sky is bluegrey, like the smoke from an old car, burning oil. it seems to absorb the light, so the glow from streetlamps is the only thing left to illuminate the trees. it's a lonely sky, tonight. it is the clear cold blue of someone's eyes who cannot cry, who has no reason to cry, but feels the desperate desire for that release anyway. the wind sways in the topmost leaves of the maple, back and forth like the hair of a rocking, sobbing woman asking a "why" for which there is no answer. the dogwood shakes in response, its stronger branches nervously and jaggedly writhing like the fingers of a helpless father watching a child in a hospital bed. only the yellow porchlight is happy, still and calm in meditation, beckoning the moths to stop and rest.

the ex-boy emailed me again. and i emailed him back. i don't know whether to hate him or forgive him. it angers me that the memories of our best times swirl with the memories of the worst. reaching a hand into a pan of uncertain water on the stove - did it just quit boiling, or is it safe? no way to know.

faint stars start to gleam in the sky as night falls. something has lifted, hope instilled. the breeze has subsided, and the trees sleep, the only movement the rise and fall of their branches.

time to go listen to music.

people don't visit here so much lately. i'm sure it's bad form that i so rarely respond to people - apologies all around.

my mind is out at sea tonight. i look for the lighthouse, wondering where the rocks are. but everything is calm, and dark.

things feel stronger lately.


i missed this.