Strings (9/30)

“tidal waves they
rip right through me
tears from eyes worn
cold and sad
pick me up now
I need you so bad…”*

she turned to me
with 3 year-old eyes
full of “whys” and “hows”
and asked me
“do you like to lay your head on your pillow and cry?”

“sometimes”
I responded
knowing the damage it does
to hide one’s emotions

this morning
I woke from a dream feeling brave
yet before I could leave the house
I was in tears

I was running late
no music this morning
just my thoughts
and my sniffles
and the soft thud of tears
landing in my lap

trying desperately
to pull myself together
before walking through the door
to find her Baba reading her a book
about the invisible strings
that connect us to loved ones

even when we are mad
even when they are far
even when they are dead

and here I am
crying again
listening to this story
thinking of my strings
attached to people I love

in spite of pain
in spite of “good-bye”
in spite of attempts
to snip and sever

how many are there
reaching across state lines
pulling at my soul
while I sleep
and drive
and cry
and praise

I am a lighthouse
who has seen so many ships
set off on adventures
I was not made
to be a part of

I am a knot
of all the lives
that have ever intertwined with mine

yes, sweet chid
“sometimes”
I am a weeping mess of a woman
sobbing uncontrollably
into a pillow
or a steering wheel
or a shoulder
or a home
with four sweet people
who tied their strings with mine
and never let me cry alone

________
|*lyrics from Blink-182’s “Down”, which repeated softly in my mind during the drive

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