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Day One Hundred and Sixty-Two:  Night

lock me in your arms and let your heart
beat me to sleep,
my drowsiness clings to your breaths,
my arms cling to your dreams in fear of
being left alone in
fairytales that begin with something other
than once upon a time,
'cause you and i babe,
we begin with inbetween,
no prince, no princess, no interuptions,
only adventure clink adventure linked together
comfortably.

I wrote that poem over a year ago, two Christmases ago, actually, at the end of my first 365 blog (www.whisperhappy.blogspot.com if you’re interested).  Rereading this blog is fascinating because I was in a completely different mind-set then.  I was happily in love, and was about to embark on a massive trip abroad, and I was…naïve.  I love this poem though, and I don’t regret writing it about him despite the fact that everything I’ve written in it no longer exists.  I no longer long for his heartbeat to sleep anymore, that’s for sure.

I think why this pome really gets to me is that it really contributes to my mentality that although I do believe in love I’m not so sure that I believe in everlasting love anymore.  I believe that love can be brief, or can last a long time, but it by no means must last for decades, or a lifetime, or ten minutes.  Love is not temporal, and this poem confirms that for me.  Because as I’ve mentioned I do not regret this poem or anything really that came with that relationship, because it happened, it was real for that time, and now it is no longer evident in my life.

That’s happened with a few different things.  Like friendships.  I’ve had friends through highschool whom I no longer speak to, but I still acknowledge their existence and remember what we had.  That’s allowed, life isn’t meant to be considered temporally, but in more of a qualitative nature.  Yes, as humans we crave long-lasting relationships and we crave continuous satisfaction, but do we always need it to be happy?  I don’t believe so.

I’ll end this with a little writing from this moment then, a bit different than my earlier poem, dated December 22, 2011.

More than my bones ache, and more than my bruised eyes,

More than my lungs that sink deep beneath me searching for air,

More than “time” swirling around my lips, drawing each breath in,

Dreams come easy then with broken shards for transport

Slicing the sides on the way down,

Inescapeable imprints for memories.

It was Morrisey who said ‘Sing me to sleep’

But it takes me long enough just to breathe.

x