Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Free to Fly

I suppose the following could be considered a poem. It was not written as such; it is a compilation of  fleeting thoughts. I have the poem enclosed between two songs by Sara Bareilles. The first song, "Gravity," has been  haunting me. As I discussed my situation with an older man, he told me that perhaps it is my vulnerability that makes me so prone to what I am going through. His suggestion was that I become more icy and distant. There are moments I can achieve this feeling, and the accompanying song is "King of Anything." However, the icy, distant Jaime is not truly me. I value my vulnerability because I see it for the beauty that it gives me. I am therefore left with the question: How do I maintain the balance between "Gravity" and "King of Anything;" between victim and rogue; between arms of love and wall of frost; between vulnerable beauty and rigid strength?

You squashed my openness.
You sucked the life out of me.

You may say you understand;
but you’re still not acting the man.

You have missed the path to my heart,
and you cannot force down its walls.
(The way to my heart is not through a deck of cards.)

You say you know me.
Thinking that possession
comes from knowing this or that.
Using each new fact
as another bar to cage me.

I let you close as a courtesy,
and you take that as an invitation to touch.
Your hands reaching out to suck
vitality from my veins.
I need a sign that says,
“Look; but DO NOT touch.”
But you would ignore it any way.
Pushing me back into my cage
while you guard the exit.

What sign am I holding
that invites you to me?
Does it say “Come to me
all ye who are weary
and in need of . . .?”

You still don’t get it.
I want to be free—
free to fly away.

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