Not Today

Some day. A day far into the future that I cannot see in my mind, 

I will think of you in a nostalgic way; 

the way a loved one should be remembered.

I'll tell your story without the feeling of a raw injury 

being scraped

Without the threat of ruin and finality 

that traps me, 

desperate and short of oxygen.

Not today.

Today I gasp for air 

just because your image entered my mind.

A song begins on the radio, 

like a match burning down

Without warning, I am screaming to you;

Thinking that if I can scream loud enough, 

with enough demand, 

you will hear me

As if I could save you.

I reach back into your 15 years 

the way a drowning animal reaches for the shore 

of raging waters that carry him away.

I claw out for the memories, so few, 

the bits of me that were you 

as panic rises up and the music plays.

Ragged and hoarse from the loneliness that has escaped my lungs, 

I lay my head down.

Silence is where you once were, 

where you should now be. 

Silence.

No one mentions this denied request that remains 

no matter the cries, no matter the pain.

Nothing rises up from this. 

No birth of joy. 

No newness. 

No hope. 

I look out from this debilitating "less" and I force myself to move. 

One foot, 

one conversation, 

one act of defiance directed at your absence. 

I await Someday. 

And I live. I live.