these days

November 19, 2007

waking up this morning with
pillow marks across my chest and arms,
folds indented on my skin and
my bed is so warm, why would i ever get up?
calendar over my bed – 3 days
rubbing my face against the blankets
struggling to remember a dream about a man
who had no words but still
he spoke so loudly, because
all he had to say was ‘i love you’
which really, is saying everything
i used my hands to talk to him, i said things
i don’t know what i said, beautiful things
painting pictures in the air
fingers folding so gracefully
and ‘i love you’s were everywhere,
in the sky and on the walls and
behind the eyes of the people around me.
we were sitting in a waiting room and they were everywhere
but i don’t know what any of us were waiting for.

i’m having a hard time with my friends talking about their lives
i feel so selfish sometimes, because they come to me
with stories about missing classes, oversleeping, pulling all nighters
dealing with their boyfriends
and i just want to laugh at them
‘you have no idea’
those nights when i wake up
pressed against a p-set
so tired, so stiff and sore
constantly trying to keep things under control and
thank God i have him to ground me, i could never do it otherwise.
and when they talk about ‘missing him’
when he’s gone for a weekend
i want to shout ‘you have no idea what missing someone feels like!’
there is so much to get done, so much to do
i take deep breaths
stamp down the stress
counting down days
in waiting rooms

when i close my eyes, i can see the man
old, old man, with a ragged jacket and
hair that needed cutting
i love you i love you i love you
he said
and he loved me because he loved everyone
because somehow everyone is worth loving in some way
and he could see that and
i think he must be right.


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