I want to Drink the Holy Water
A passing thought my husband will never read
Pillows deep, covers warm
All the things I couldn’t say to you
That floorboard still squeaks, but
Of course I’ll schedule the person soon.
Hope springs from the floorboards, and
Tendrils corkscrew up my legs
To my heart, blooming with opportunity,
Then to my brain
Where the thorns dig in
Nailing me to the present, the future, my past.
And now I am left here
Not with you,
but everything you left behind.
This poem could be about being paralyzed from action, or so said a family member of mine who struggles with her beautiful, broken brain & depression
A friend told me it was about shame and imposters syndrome and not being able to break free from who we are, or who we want to become
Or maybe it’s about a significant other and how they don’t know you at all… Something prayer and time can never heal.