Thin Air
Covered in cobwebs--
nothing has changed.
And maybe that's why
I feel this pain.
Maybe I need to
open the windows, open the doors,
open conversations that lead to more.
Clearly, I'm healing.
My mind's on the mend.
But I wonder how is yours,
my friend?
Do you too have nightmares
instead of restful sleep?
Certain triggers, like morbid souvenirs,
that you insist you keep?
Because if you let go
and if you forgot,
you'd trade mourning the missing
for missing the mourning.
Because you and me--
who would we be
if we found that long-lost peace?
Does your back hurt from the workday
or from the past that seeps through the cracks?
Do your eyes look tired from the life you live now
or from the one that was left in the past?
All these questions, I ask of thin air
in the space where we laughed
when we could still care.
I hope time is kind
and gives us the chance
to rekindle our friendship,
to finish this dance.
This hiding,
this pining,
this lying
through our teeth.
The answers lie between us,
not in nightmares and dreams.
