Flatsound - Saturday Dec 14 2013

It's been exactly one year since I
Wrote that first poem about you
I sat in bed and started thinking
About what happened at Sandy Hook
And how fragile life is
And how much I wanted you in mine
When you read it you said you teared up
And couldn't believe whatever this was
We found in each other
You called it indescribable
I lied in the same spot a
Year later with you beside me emotionless
Thinking about how I watched you
Change with every season
How spring turned into summer turned
Into autumn turned into winter
How the purity of something new
Became as hot as the
Persistent day as it rests too
Heavily on tired flowers
And how when that tiredness wins
They die like everything else
I could feel my chest collapsing that night
I sat in the stairway and
Read every word you had written to
Someone else while you were gone
How you teared up when you read
The words he wrote to you
How you couldn't believe what you found
You even called it indescribable
Now I can't stop thinking about
What those words might
Have been and how they compare to mine
I can't sleep because I need
To know what you found
And if it feels anything like what I lost
I'm sorry if I'm so stuck in this
It's just before you came along I spent
Four years with someone who would watch
Me watch the world but couldn't hold my
Hand and see what I saw
Someone who loved me so
Much but couldn't understand
How a human soul could mimic the seasons
Or how a person can be fine for so long but
Wake up one morning wanting to
Die all over again
So when that feeling rises over the mountains
All I ask of the world
Is that they greet it differently than
Pagans when they worship the sun

I am old soil mixed with the compulsion
To describe what used to grow here
To describe the indescribable sensation of
Life in a dying field
As if remembering the smell of your blossoms
Is the only thing keeping me alive

Written by:
Mitch Welling

Publisher:
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