Sunday Morning Melodies (and a note)

I came here knowing full well.
I asked for it.
But it feels even more raw
than I expected.

Every pick and strum
coaxes to the surface
the longing that always
hovers just beneath,
a soundtrack
for the flickering reel of
memories and dreams
that streams in the background
of my every waking moment.

The ache is overwhelming.
Were I alone I would
drop to my knees
imploring every god in every heaven:
Please, please!
How long must I stand in this fire?
How wide must my open heart gape?

I can only trust
the answers will come
and try not to despair
in the meantime.


**A note on this poem: I did not want to write it. I wanted to write today about anything but the state of my heart this morning. I begged and bargained with myself to shut it down, to find something -anything - else. I finally surrendered, thinking I would write it to try and let it go, but I did not want to share it here. I felt embarrassed that I was being toppled by the same fears and feelings for the thousandth time. "Why haven't I come further than this?" was all I could think. A few hours and a few hundred tears later, I'm posting the poem, having remembered (yet again) that accepting and being open with others about even the messiest parts of our utter humanness is vital to uncovering one's whole and authentic self. There is no need to try and escape or hide what is. Everything is just as it is meant to be. Heartache and all.