i’ve been waiting for years
to write this to you
barred at first by politeness
then the plague
and now, just plain resistance
but the time
the time
has come
.
i remember parts of the day clearly
a sparkly seaside
the dark hotel room
a dusty family bible, splayed out on your wrinkled jeans
pictures of him, ones i’d never seen
and your smile, covering
.
it’s hazy
but i think i remember
the brother leaving
you starting to whisper
secrets
secrets from long ago
as if needing to confess
before his ears returned
.
it’s funny
but not
how i don’t trust i remembered this clearly
did you tell me?
am i making it all up?
mirrors and mirrors and mirrors
of questions
of secrets
from so long ago
.
so i’m writing
to ask
once more of the hushed words i think i heard
hoping for one step closer
hoping to help me re-member
hoping to know if it’s real
or if i’m crazy
hoping to stop spinning
through these clouds of a dream
.
what you said
what happened
why the secrets
why the forgotten years
why the distance
i write this letter
hoping you’ll tell me
so i can just know
if it was my mouth
if it was his hands
if it was her neck
if it was only
a dream
.
I’m writing this letter
before you, like they
die holding keys
I’m hoping you’ll find it
I’m hoping you’ll tell me
what is real
cause she keeps disappearing
she keeps
disappearing
and i want
her back
.
Letting Go 