I can picture her face lingering carefully there. Just there right out of touch. That smile that seemed to hold something in, that kept me further from her than I wanted to be. She always kept me at arm’s length. And when I close my eyes, she’s all I see. She’s all I can think about when the noise leaves and the light dims and there is nothing else. Only her.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s happier now. If her grasp on the world was the only thing keeping her from being free. If she had been a prisoner trapped in the cage of her beating heart. I feel the breaks and cracks in mine but she’s still there, keeping it all together. If she had the strength to keep living with the poison of life in her veins, so can I. So I follow her steps and carry her will with me. I carry the burden of life on my shoulders and I keep my head up high because that’s what she taught me.
In another life, I picture her with wings. A raven stained black with the sorrow that comes from every breath. I hear the coo of one and listen as closely as I can. Maybe it’s her. Maybe it’s her voice trying to find me and tell me of everything she kept locked away so tightly in her captive heart.
Chains upon chains I could picture covering her scarred and torn muscle. And I can picture her delicate hands carefully shining those metal bonds.
There are times I catch sight of a suspended black creature, staying still for the sake of staying still. Staying in place when it could go to wherever it wanted. And I think that was her. In place to be in place. Shackled up and hidden to remain kept. Captive because being free would break her. All of those chains and confines to keep her whole.
More than seldom I wonder what she kept behind her secret smile. More than seldom I wish I could have helped her heavy burden. And more than seldom I hate myself for being so selfish and wishing she were back.
And every single second I wait for her story. Every single second I love her.