File

File

Two steps forward, and one and a half back
This weary ascent, up my mental list
The more skewed the priorities, the more I lack
Still a half step behind what I can’t resist

I am preoccupied, with so many loose ends
What little time, spent reeling them in
With eyes wide, to avoid common friends
Leery, that your patience is wearing thin

It’s my quiet burden, this selective secret
Lines of inconvenience, thickening a folder
Life evolves, while I struggle to keep it
As the new, and good, look over my shoulder

All the transitional turmoil, single spaced
A ledger of my worries, my personal file
A test of your resolve, stacked with my haste
Noted, then placed, at the bottom of the pile

We will rise, when I am free, from all of this
When I can share myself,  fully, with you
This promise, an asterisk, and a kiss
For now, these, are the best I can do

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Kick

 

Kick
Striding toward your goals
Always the first to arrive
Always the last to leave
Always giving your best…  
Going the extra yard
to separate from the rest

Staying with the group,
you are comfortable where you are.
With no urgency to take the lead,

you settle into fourth instead.
Prepared, mentally and physically,
for your chance to move ahead.
Sensing it in the pace,

you anticipate the moment.
  Your instincts tell you when,
  and they always seem to know.
I can just barely get the words out,
“Here she comes. Watch her go.”

Kick
Seizing the moment,
and having what it will take
Kick
Seeing the opportunity,
and leaving the rest in your wake
Kick
The training
The discipline
One last rep
One more lap
Kick
Knowing you have enough
to close the gap

Prepared for your success
Hours in the weight room
Hours in the gym
Hours on the track…
Building up the resolve,
to separate from the pack


Striving for your most

Your work ethic
Your ambition
Your fight…
An inward strength that emerges,
with all of its might

With a glance to your right,
you make your move to the outside.
  There is one remaining curve,
and you have one remaining burst.
   Six or seven powerful strides
take you from fourth to first.
You accelerate through the finish
and you glide to a stop.
Hands on your hips,
you are tired and content.
Satisfied with your preparation,
and the rush of how it went.

Kick
Brash and self-certain
Confident, bordering on bold
Kick
I’ve seen it many times
and it never gets old
Kick
The speed
The stamina
One last push
One more gear
Kick
All of the grit and guts
that got you here

You leave it all out there
Your determination
Your heart
Your will…
Just when it all seems spent,
you get stronger still

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Past

“So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light…
Just promise me we’ll be alright
But the ghosts that we knew made us black and all blue
But we’ll live a long life
And the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view
And we’ll live a long life”
‘Ghosts That We Knew’
– Mumford & Sons


Past

I took a chance
and let you into my heart.
I let all of my feelings show.
Uprooted my life,
for me and you,
but little did I know.


I discovered your wounds,

written in your own words,
there, for anyone to see.
Cuts and bruises,
vital accumulation,
scars, that you never showed me.

The breadth of your struggles,
so much I didn’t know,
spread across my screen.
Instead of in my mind.
Instead of in my heart,
where they should have been.

I took your determination,
for never again,
as a personal affront.
Your learned defensive posture
as harsh belligerence,
 you just being you, being blunt.

Your fierce independence
was stubborn vulnerability.
Your frustration, was our fate.
The voice of your experience,
sad and specific,
finally heard, but far too late.

I would have tried harder
to let you speak to me,
to let your words get through.
I could have helped you 
confront your demons,
instead of confronting you.

 It became impossible
to live with you
when you wouldn’t let me in.
Hard for us
to start over,
with nowhere to begin.

Had I only known
 the slippery slope
  of dealing with your past.
Known that I would struggle
to wade through
the depths
and dangers of your doubt.

I still would have wanted you.
I still could have loved you.
I would have understood.
I could have pulled you out.


I chose the challenge,

and gave you my heart.
Let all of my feelings show.
Uprooted my life,
to be with you,
but little did I know.


If only I had known,
I could have earned your trust.
I would have opened up my mind.
Instead, I read of our demise,

   determined before we met,
 by those you left behind.

Takers, martyrs, bullies,
sad and hurtful people,
there on my screen.
Instead of in our talks.
Instead of in my thoughts,
where they should have been.

 Until I read it,
I never once heard you 

refer to your mother as
Mom.
In fact, I barely knew
where all of the hurt
and resentment
were from.

Never could I picture, you,
together with your ex.

Made no sense to me at all.
And, until I read the name,
  typed in bold hostility,
I had never heard of Paul.

Bitterness and bravado.
 Broken pieces of the past,
clenched inside your fist.
   Our time, our spirit,
spent fighting with your ghosts.
One more added to the list.

It’s tough to share
with someone
who barely gives.
Hard to live
with someone
who reluctantly lives.

Had I only known
the bleak history
of your emotional pain.
The depths to which
those before me
had sunk inside your mind.
I still would have wanted you.
I still could have loved you.
I would have understood.
I could have been more kind.

I gave you my heart.
Had I only known…

 

 

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