Lisa, I am sorry to invade your space here. An invasion I assure you spawned by the necessity to crawl into whatever space of refuge and comfort you have created in order to put distance between you and me. I understand this. Just as I have made it my purpose to fill the gaps you have left exposed. I admit, resentment has clouded my judgement. It has often been too much, you giving so much to others and me in the background. Seems everyone wants a piece of you, leaving me to make do with the pieces you return with. And it is hard, being what you need when you don't even know. This journey of yours taking you far too far away. It's been months now Lisa. Too long to make do and make up. You said you couldn't write with me behind you. You needed to expand into the world again and for what? To return more wounded than you were before? Lisa, I found your words. I found them scrawled across these pages, the bedroom and in suitcases. They are proof that you once existed within these walls. You once were here. Dancing in the kitchen while the dinner was burning. Sleeping on the couch as the phone rang, the stereo sang and the TV blared on. You were here. Doing what you do best. Inspiring others, creating beauty and loving me. I miss you. I want you to return. Kill another cactus. Skateboard naked down the halls. Scream worship as loud as you want. Do what you want. And remember love blinks twice for yes. Peace
Reason for writing:
This is not a poem and I know it, just trying to get through. Sorry for any invasion.
Birth sign: Aquarius
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