By sarita
Submitted by sarahsehee
Date: 2001 Oct 20
Comment on this Work
[[2001.10.20.01.23.2297]]

my soul is stretched across miles

My soul is stretched across miles.
A needle with thread punctures my heart
and finds its way to yours.
And in this way we live.
Bound by an invisible string.
Woven through every flutter of my eyes
and every word that I read.
Every falling leaf, every cup of hot chocolate,
every warm shower.
You haunt my very existence.
But don't stop.
Don't ever stop being here.
I want your spirit here, lingering.
Sleeping next to me.
Brushing the tears off my cheeks.
I sleep to dream of you
and wake every morning looking forward to seeing you.
But some mornings, some rare gray mornings...
I'm bed ridden, I can't even lift my body.
It's so heavy with want for you.
Those mornings are dark, and I dread those days.
Those are days when I read the same sentence
over and over again.
When I can't speak like a normal person.
When every breath is so difficult to breathe
and my heart skips a beat.
Those are sad days.
And I just want to crawl in bed,
under the warmth of sheets and blankets,
inside your soul,
and cry myself to sleep.
A sweet slumber where I can surrender my body to destiny,
to the unconscious,
to a wonderful release
that seeps out every drop of black blood
and fills me with you, with heaven.
The next day is better, and I am myself again.
Not always, but mostly.
And even if I wasn't myself,
I would drudge on anyway,
living life as it must be lived:
without you.
But I can do this.
I can do this because I'm a strong woman,
or at least I like to think I am.
Or I can just be strong for you,
because that's what you would want.
And I will do anything you want.
I don't want to be owned,
but I find myself wanting to be owned by you.
You make me feel this.
Don't you worry, these are only rare occasions.
I still jump when the phone rings, hoping it is you.
I still eagerly check my mail, hoping you have written.
I still read your old letters and poems
and tear happy tears...that you could love me so.
I hope because that is what I do.
I'm no optimist;
I think the worst of things all the time.
Let me rephrase that:
I am an optimist when anything concerns you, us.
Let me rephrase that again: yes, I am optimistic.
But why?
Because I love you?
Because I hope for the best?
Because I'm an idealist, a romantic?
Yes, all those things, and more.
Because you want me, because you love me.
Because in this life where so many things are wrong,
where so many loved ones are far away,
we can still be together.
We can still love each other.
I can still touch you
if only my mind's eye wills it.