Dreamer

I spent the first half of my life as a dreamer.
I went on adventures with the wind
and floated on the buds of a dandelion,
wandering aimlessly with the wishes of others.
Once I was late to school because I got lost
with the hope of a father coming home.
He never did.

I got too close to the sun when I hitched a ride on a bluebird.
I told him not so high but he didn't listen.
So I spent a few days on the ground under a tree.
I saw two lovers carve their initials into her bark.
She wept for days.
Those scars will never fade but the feelings behind them will.

I had the freedom to dance with the stars
and sleep in the curve of a waning moon.
But when it grew rounder,
I slide off its fullness
and fell into the ground.

The clouds tickled me whenever I went through them.
And then they disappeared on adventures of their own.
They never invited me to join
so I kept on moving too.

I twisted with swirls of smoke,
intoxicated with the beauty
of death escaping from a burning cigarette.

I dug myself into the soil,
pulled the dandelion bud down with me.

We sprouted up to the sky, reborn.

Realization #1

I miss the idea of you but I don’t miss the things I held in.

Like the happiness that was kept down

low because you were having a bad day?

I never told you but I felt guilty if I wasn't battling my depression

while sitting there watching you with yours.

But I do miss the smiles and laughter

even if they were forced because you have such a great smile.

What I don't miss is how you never believed me

when I told you that or when I said that you were beautiful.

And that I loved you which I didn't say often because you

stopped saying it back to me.

I don't miss laying in bed next to you, wanting to touch you

but keeping to myself because I was afraid you'd reject me.

Why was it that you needed to have a drink in order to touch me?

Because that's something I don't miss either.

I don't miss all the apologies I had to say

even though they were needed.

But I was always apologizing for the wrong things.

I lied and kept things in my pocket with loose change

and kept shoving them down

deeper.

That wasn't right. You deserved better.

I mostly lied about who I was because I knew you

wouldn’t like who I really am.

And because I loved the way I thought you loved me.

Or the me I pretended to be.

And that wasn’t right either.

We weren’t right.

I lied about that too.

The truth is that we should’ve been a moment.

Drunk, caught in the rain.

My Haven

I stood at the edge of the beach where the water meets the sand and creates an in-between; neither in nor out, coming nor going, ocean nor beach. And that's where I was. Slowly sinking into the earth, becoming a fixture swaying with the breeze. Drawing the positive energy in, deep down, and exhaling the negative out. Soon the sounds of children began to fade away and I was left with the symphony of waves being vulnerable and breaking into the arms of the sand. The smell of salt danced away from the chaos and found refuge with me, in my nose and on my skin so you could taste it later.

I could feel your hands on me. Your fingers working with the breeze to tease me, goosebumps erupting on my skin. I could feel your lips on me where my neck and shoulder meet: the in-between. And I almost dropped to my knees into an incoming (or outgoing) wave. But you held me up, kept me standing yet causing me to melt. I felt your lips part next to my ear, your voice whispering, "my sweet...you are beautiful. You are strong. And you are unconditionally loved."

Slowly, I brought myself back. The noises of children grew louder and the chill of the waves hit my legs with conviction. I opened my eyes and stared out to sea, drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded my head. Yeah...life can be beautiful. And I am okay.