The Wait

So, last night I was leaving Starbucks and as I was leaving, I saw this car pull up. Fast. Apparently someone had stayed out too late, way past his curfew. A man and woman jumped out of the car. The man came to pick up his car that he’d left at Starbucks. What struck me was the way he paid no attention to her. He raced from her car, jumped in his and tore out of the parking lot. He didn’t look back. A man that has left a woman he loves always looks back. Sometimes just to make sure that she’s okay. But it was obvious one of them, more than likely both of them the way they tore out of the parking lot, had to get home before their significant others became suspicious of their activities. Watching them, inspired the poem Fuck You, which can be found here. But, after writing that poem, which I meant to be not subtle at all. I wanted it to be profound but a stark wake-up call. Reality often is. Still, I had another poem in me. Something I’ve been working on for a few weeks. I spend a lot of time meditating on love and its many forms. Here’s the poem:

I will not claim ownership

of the type of love that

bites into the skin like a whip

finds unblemished swaths of skin

to lay claim to, to cover with

painful welts. Proof that love

once existed.

I will not speak possession or

existence of a love that is

tied to a need. Needing is fluid,

shape-shifting, cruel depending on

the shape it happens to take.

I will not mother a love that

continues to suckle at the breast

long after the time has passed.

A love that refuses to grow

developmentally distressed.

I will not become part-owner

of a love that’s built on the

shaky foundation of

one person drowning in another

to keep down the dissension.

I will not accept love made from

corkboard, smooth and round enough

to fill holes. The hole left behind

by a daddy who left before his time or

an ex who you chose to keep

long before her expiration date.

I’m not a placeholder. I will not

become filled with holes because

you have too many.

I will not allow myself to be

punished by love because others

have been bad. My love comes

from a place that’s pure and

I won’t allow another person to

sully the waters of my love.

I will not give birth to a love that

doesn’t leave room for loving me.

It took me so many years to

fall in love with me and that’s a love

I’m not willing to sacrifice.

I will only accept love that belongs

solely to me. My soul mate. The one who

knows from the day he meets me

that he never wants to live another day

without me. Not because I’m pretty or

cute because sometimes I’m not.

But the one who can say

“I’ve spent my entire life searching

for you and I’m never going to let you go.”

Peace & Love,

Rosalind