Letter To My Inspiration

I remember how you used to rouse me

in the dead of night

in the depth of sleep.

Like some sweet, unassuming alarm

You would gently grab and shake my arm

and whisper, “My darling, are you awake?”


It was like the thing you had to say

your declaration couldn’t wait another moment,

and that was quite alright with me.


I’d listen intently,

let you move me into new worlds

with new words, relentless,

where things that made less sense

still somehow led me home.


We were there.

My dearest and deepest,

my long time lover,

we were tethered

and I would have followed you anywhere.


You willed me know myself

to see myself better.

You taught me to learn

and to feel the slow burn of each

teachable moment we endured together.


You were the mirror,

my rooted tree reflector

my protector

because I knew you

were sure that the truth

was something I could reach

before it killed me.


I grew

We grew older

Those middle-of-the-night

tender shakes of my shoulder

that splendor

waxed and waned

and, suddenly,

in the absence of the time and space

I neglected to create,

I didn’t have the hours in a day.


I fell in love with new things

and you let me do it.

I felt the breakdown of my old dreams

and you saw me through it.

And then, it seems

I didn’t see much at all

though we both know

how hard you tried.


I remember how

you’d look at me

with that gorgeous face

those eager eyes

begging me,

pleading me back into sacred places.


I denied you

and I justified it:

This is my life now.

People change, my love.

I don’t have time for fantasies.


---


I awoke last night in terror

to cold, and shame, and shiver,

I turned this whole house over

and over and over.

I looked for a letter.

I looked in the mirror.

I looked over my shoulder

and you weren’t here.


I’ve grown older still

unable to forget the way

you made my passion smolder.

I long to hold you again,

and so I wrote a letter.


---


To my dearest and deepest

my long time friend and lover,


I didn’t realize what I had

until the end.


I’m sorry, so sorry,

and I promise, if you return

if you let me see you again

I will never look away.


No matter how painfully

honest it is

I will let you hold my hand

my pen, and tell me what

it is you wish to say.


At any moment

any time of day

I am yours, endlessly

relentlessly.


Please, my darling,

Please come back,

and stay.


I’m awake.

I’m awake.

I’m awake.


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Tags: #poetry #creativewriting #creativity