Lessons

When I'm alone
all the losses pile up and sit on my chest heavy and cold.
When I'm lonely all the grief I pushed down,
all the loves lost mid coitus,
all of it circles and pervades me -
pummels me leaving no part untouched.

So long,
So much of my life spent cowering
at the first sign of grief - of discomfort
He slapped me in the face and
I poured whisky into my belly.
He left and I slept for weeks.
He replaced me and I replaced him.

No harm - No foul - No growth - No gain

I think about the natural ebb and flow of life.
The spider bites and we limp for a day.
We cross a snake
and escape a little more savvy.
But what about the little girl who never took her lessons?
What about the little
soma suckling self deserter
that never hung in?

I guess the answer is in the question, then.
It all piles up -
heavy like thousands of wet drops collected -
weighing down - and bowing the fragile framework.
All my collected lessons.
In my bed tonight my heart breaks for all of them.
All the moon shaped faces and all the almond eyes.
All the love all lost at once,
like when the anesthetic wears off and you feel the sting
but its subtler - like an echo.

Here they are,
echos of heartbreaks never felt,
lessons never learned.
I wont run away.
I'm strong now.
I can hold the weight.

Tomorrow I wake up wise.