It’s a funny feeling, indeed
To miss that which you never had
To wave it goodbye and wish it well for the future
It is funnier, even, to have created the fallacy of an unwanted truth
To have twisted and coiled my way up in a story
One that none had ever wanted to hear, not least myself
Though, I made it mine, in spite of desire
I delved into a sacred place as though I had a right to be there
I abused myself as though I had no right to care
I held tight and fast to the notion of it
It being a love, of sorts
It being the one thing truly lost to me
Yet craved, selfishly
Abusing it until the coil twisted back on itself and all that was left was me
All that ever was there was me, truthfully
For that moment I wondered
I pondered on it
It being that love, of sorts
I poked my head out to play and danced with it a while
Toyed with it
Delighted in it
But never in it, you see
In itself, it is lost to me
I cannot connect with that which is not there
But I can create
I rejoice in the weaving of the story of it
Believing it to be true
Believing it to be me
A heart that beats a regular rhythm
Where others may come and step to the drum
They see the me of my design
We dance and we sing
We feel a lifelong knowing despite there being nothing to know
The untruth engulfs for a while, at least
Til the slap of the coil reminds of me
Just me
How funny, indeed
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I really liked your poem, especially the line, “to miss that which you never had.”
Aww, thank you 🙂 Glad you liked it.