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Our Story (A Poem) The bed at the center of it all– the way you never felt like a stranger, Instead like someone, I had forgotten, like a part of myself I had dropped in some distant city delivered back to my door. Our story, a pipe dream in three parts– My bedroom, the place where everything came together, and the place where everything fell apart. There are still echoes of us in the bed frame, the closet, and the drywall. I keep your dignity on the bookshelf; I figure you’ll come looking for it, eventually. It always comes back to here. The only sanctuary I have ever known still smells like you, sometimes. just when I think I’ve gotten you out of the pillowcases, I find your cologne on the walls. I remember when you came apart in pieces on the carpet, and I will never be able to wash the heartbreak out of the floors. Someday, I will leave our story behind, in this city. This apartment will be barren and then it will be full of other people. None of them will know our names; they will track over our history like re-recording over old videotapes. I won’t miss you. Or I will miss you, but I’ll have bought a new mattress: one that doesn’t know how you twitch in your sleep. I will have a new bedroom and the floorboards won’t know how to moan your name like I do. and we’ll fall asleep in different beds, in different cities. And if I wake up from dreams that still taste like you, I can take comfort in the fact that even though you have kissed me, you have never kissed me here. ~Caitlyn Siehl  "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.” |
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lovely  "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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"echoes of us" I like that... The repeating reminder of what once was. Continually diminishing but evoking those memories in a bittersweet melancholy with each visit.  "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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We relegate parts of ourselves to the shadow of someones else's heart and mind . . They cannot be reclaimed. The peace you seek, you must pay for with pieces of your strength.  "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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I love this! "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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From her words we feel what went astray not how but know a trail was left always reminders... I like it too! "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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Thank you for sharing, aliljaded, can feel the hurt in this writer's words, and then, the appeasement and contentment of the efforts put forth of 'moving on' from the relationship that was lost...very moving. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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Melancholia my most faithful mistress. All other lovers leave, fade away, or become betrayers. I know her, her melancholia, my only true lover. What is the title of the book this is from. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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poetry lends itself to sadness... we write of what breaks our hearts, pour our pain into words... and afterwards smile for a bit for we no longer need to write "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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Hauntingly perfect. The story of an unforgettable love affair. She does capture the essence of life well. I'll have to find more of her writing. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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BTW, we all know you meant'POEM'... "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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11/9/2023 8:30 am |
BTW, we all know you meant'POEM'...
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Hauntingly perfect. The story of an unforgettable love affair. She does capture the essence of life well. I'll have to find more of her writing.
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poetry lends itself to sadness... we write of what breaks our hearts, pour our pain into words... and afterwards smile for a bit for we no longer need to write
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11/7/2023 9:38 am |
Melancholia my most faithful mistress. All other lovers leave, fade away, or become betrayers. I know her, her melancholia, my only true lover. What is the title of the book this is from.
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11/7/2023 8:40 am |
Thank you for sharing, aliljaded, can feel the hurt in this writer's words, and then, the appeasement and contentment of the efforts put forth of 'moving on' from the relationship that was lost...very moving.
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From her words we feel what went astray not how but know a trail was left always reminders... I like it too!
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I love this!
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We relegate parts of ourselves to the shadow of someones else's heart and mind . . They cannot be reclaimed. The peace you seek, you must pay for with pieces of your strength.
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11/7/2023 6:21 am |
"echoes of us" I like that... The repeating reminder of what once was. Continually diminishing but evoking those memories in a bittersweet melancholy with each visit.
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lovely
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I love this writer. She writes life so beautifully. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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