Because I never heard a word from you
I assumed everything. And each day that passed at first,
The missing you hurt, there is pain in being someone’s “mine.”
As the days passed, reality returned and I stopped,
Thinking about you so much, I thought about my life
How ever piece was melded together, yet fragile as a bubble
I worked, I rested, I spent time with friends, and I shopped
For Christmas presents, scrawling sparkled cards as the days slipped by.
I waited. But I did not hear your voice and I had left phone messages.
I imagined a hundred things but mostly, that you were at work and
Punishing me somehow for something I had written beforehand,
Something I wrote in anger and shared with the world.
Tonight I decided it was time to write some words again because
You inspire me, missing you every second stirs the misery in me
And I think about the future, all the days I will spend alone.
I think if I have things to keep me busy I will be happy and yet,
The weeks pass by in lonely lentement. I decided to separate myself from you.
Keep myself to my own. Because when you’re here you’ll take me again
And I will no longer be just be my own. It’s hard being owned.
It’s a word every woman, every enslaved being detests.
But what we never really keep in mind is that we are always giving
Pieces of ourselves away to be kept safe when we trust someone.
In this way we are owned, especially by our lovers.
Those who know us deepest and can rip our hearts to pieces.
Not a word, not a word, you haven’t told me anything.
And I think that it is snowing, that you just have bad cell reception.
That the storm is keeping you away from the internet, from saying anything.
That you are not even able to call because you just can’t.
I think that your busy and that your just ignoring me because you don’t think
The order of my days is interesting, it doesn’t deserve a reply.
But excuse me for posting online these words, not in anger but in hurt.
I don’t think all this is likely, I just think you don’t want to talk to me.
That you would try to get in touch with me after a week.
And I doubt, that you’ll try next week, until the end of the week after.
Then you’ll want something, or maybe not, I do not know
My poor heart thumps uncomfortably slow
Don’t you know one word from you and I would be just fine.
I wouldn’t write emails where I wonder why you don’t talk to me.
I would live my life and be okay because I know that we are okay and that
You actually take time to think about me in your days as I think about you.
I believe you do but I don’t know what lack of communication means.
Because I am owned and then unknown I lack soul to care anymore
My mind rolls with questions, but I’ve closed the door on whether or not
You will bother to say hello this shift, I just live my own life.
And wait out the silence, I can hear my own heart beat it says be tough
And be self-reliant. It doesn’t matter that I needed your advice
It matters that I live my own life… this situation is thin as tissue paper
I crumple it into a ball, and wonder what the weeks ahead will bring.
I text too much perhaps, I write too much perhaps, I ask too much perhaps
So I will think of you and whatever you are dealing with.
Pray for you, because I do it anyways. And in the night there’s whispers, dreams of not such distance – where we are both our own and owned together.