quiet night

Its a beautiful night, humid and hot but the sky show streaks of silver, like little bursts of hope – if hope had an actual shape.  The blind next to my bed is open and I am sitting here, the television is off, the clothes off totally at ease.  I’ve come to a realization today, since waking up lonely and hurt really – instead tonight, while the loneliness is still here, there is a longing…

a noter told me about patience and how much more grateful I will be if he does come back around, if he takes the steps and the time and everything that needs to happen…and if he doesn’t I can remember and love. 

I needed that, needed to believe in myself, in him and in everything that I have always believed in.  My eyes are heavy, it was a day spent in the sun, a day writing the poetry that eases the aches and pains.  Its always been the writing for me, as if I can physically show the curves, the freckles, how the mini-scar lines all melt into who I am inside.  Freeing myself, the insecurities, the quiet beside the bold, I can just be through the words.