Invisible Ink

At a loss. 
A loss for words. for heartbeats. for deeper connections. 
Loss. Feeling lost. 

Park’s ‘Angles and Errors’ finally made it to my headphones. I’ve avoided it these past two weeks. 
Recalling tears, hands and hearts held upon first listening.
A facade I kept up for years. Just to keep you.

But I am not that girl. If I can even call myself one anymore.
I didn’t lie. But I did let you believe.
I’ve let myself be the canvas so many times.

Others’ desires painted in bright red. in heavy strokes. in tiny stipple patterns.
I am blank.
I let them fill me with their hopes. becoming a vessel for love’s gains. for swollen hearts and for forgetting their pasts. 
Nothing more. 

No songs seem right tonight. I miss the old songs. The old playcounts, memories, sleepless nights spent in song, disappeared one night many autumns ago. I have not yet retrieved them – so much a part of me. and I am missing. 

I want to love you. I want to remember why. why I am here on this very night. in this cold house. 
what if I cannot remember. 
what if these perfidies come back around. haunting.

Acoustic guitars. former lovers. deeper loves. adventures that cannot stir up bad memories. 
today I saw a parking lot, now dug up. we sat there for hours one summer. while we waited for his car to be towed. 

having a fit of nostalgia. thrashing about and suppressing heart beats. 

his hands. his arms. and his words – which I never get to hear. 
we live in silence. 
in fear? 
where we cannot freely say what we want – or maybe we regret even whispering the words while we are alone. 
arms I have not seen. words I have not heard. stories I have yet to know by heart. sentences not yet finished for me. 

my head is spinning. i am feeling even more far from home now. far from finding a place where I belong. 
felt like an orphan since I was 12. 
the only family I’ve known in years would be lost. ash in the wind. 
and i would be dirt under their feet. deep below the foundation of the farm house they so love. 

things to weigh. against what? against words and not actions? against fleeting thoughts and moments? 
"I’d rather be working for a paycheck than waiting to win the lottery." 
Tired from the earth’s spin and pull.