Still

I have watched your eyes take in new. I have watched your mouth fumble, and your forehead tell the truth. I have watched you grasp and watched you struggle and watched you learn. I have watched you grow. You have watched me burn.

From excess, my skin has come to hate the sun. In protest, it springs up warning signs and red flags in the form of rash. I listen, or I suffer. The same has become true of my heart. I can recognize the signs, and there’s no room to be brash, or to hush, or to run. I have simply to remove myself from the sun.

With my head in your lap, I’ve taken the metaphor out of the puddle of poetry. I’ve broken so many times in front of you, and you’ve still got me fixed in your mind as this unbreakable thing. I flew here. I forget I have wings.

If I looked hard enough, I know I could find a grain of foreign sand in my luggage, and the bringing it back was accident, but still the world has changed. I’ve moved earth over miles of sea. This is how I know there is strength in me.

Something I’m not is sturdy, my darling. My resilience is the average of the crests and the troughs, I’m down just as much as I’m up. I have watched you change. You have watched me forget to breathe. I have watched you worry. You’ve watched me forget how to be.

The fact is I am vulnerable. I’m raw in ways I hadn’t planned. I’m here, back in our native place, and the sound of me is different, the smell of me is laced. I trip, I fall, I yell and I bleed. Sometimes I get lost. I always find the way back blind, but back nonetheless. Sometimes I falter in my will.
Now you know

I’m all shatters and spills.
I hope you love me still.


Ashley Wylde
July 11th, 2015

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