You were the mother
of my escape,
of the start
of the birth
of my
(as yet unfinished)
self-discovery journey.
It was you
who set my feet on the path
that opened up my soul
and my heart
and my mind
to what could be
and should be
and now,
increasingly,
is.
Should I rage
At again
(or still)
Being told
How much I’m missed,
How much I’m needed,
How much I’m thought of;
But when the time comes,
When the opportunity’s there,
When the shot’s ready
To be taken,
I’m forgotten,
Ignored,
Or worse,
Excused away,
Made to believe that
IF
Things were different,
And IF
I had “been there”,
And IF
I’d been more proactive,
The great chance
Would have been mine?
Should I be mad, sad, frustrated?
Or should I just accept
That’s who I am,
That’s how I’m thought of,
That’s the world’s view
of solo mio;
That I’m some invisible
Nothing
Who has such a vast array
Of kind feelings,
Such a tender heart,
such a positive nature,
That people expect
That they can party
And dance
And hold the parade
Without me.
That I’ll just watch,
Face pressed against
The second story window,
As others play,
Until at last
I grow tired
Of being left out,
again,
as I was.
Then I go out
And create my own magic,
Alone,
As I always have,
As I’ve always been,
Carpe Diem Sōlus Man.
Maybe,
instead of bemoaning
the fact
that
she won’t call,
I should prepare myself
for someone who will
eagerly
reach out.
Perhaps,
instead of worrying
why I’m not
good enough,
I should make myself
better
for someone who is
not only awesome,
but who believes
that I am
incredible.
Because even though
I am,
maybe
I can be
more so.
And when I am
at THAT level,
it won’t matter
what I was
before,
nor
will it matter
how lonely I felt.
And as God is my witness,
I will never be lonely again!
I had a fantastic trip.
I proved myself
to myself
beyond
what I ever believed
about myself.
But … whenIwastiredandheadingHome,
I let mind worms
creep in
and undo
some
of what I’d learned
about myself.
135: A number I remember from high school.
170: The number on my wedding day
180: A number I was when I tried — and failed — to negotiate back to
170: The number where I wanted to be to “get more…”
199: A number I was 15 years and 4 kids later.
200: The number where I screamed when I saw it.
210: A number where I stopped looking.
220: The number today when I bought the scale and looked again.
(530): A number of someone who inspired me.
190: A number I’ll gladly go back to.
(X): The number of years I’ll add to my life.
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 