old. July 1, 2009

i forgot how close it all was. and how close i always am to falling in love. and losing it all. how proximity speaks volumes and distance is volume at its highest, loudest setting. i forgot how loud silence can be, and how close women have to huddle to break that silence. i forgot how close we had to be to hold hands around that pole and remember how close we all felt to being beaten. i am always so close. then i remember where i am, like the night i spent with you, waking up in a terror because the sheets were foreign. i wake up in your arms and wonder where i am. and then i remember how close we were. i forget how close my breath clings to my lungs whenever i think the sound of my voice is growing smaller, how close i am to screaming when i feel the suffocating. i forgot how much it means to finish something, to say what i mean. to think for myself and maybe for the ones who can't speak. i forgot that memory plays the meanest tricks. that honesty is the only fix and honestly i forget how close i am to lying until it's already in the air. and this writing, i forgot how much it meant to get it all down, how much more expansion in my chest when the words are black on white. i forgot how much blurring the lines affects, and how close we all are to the effects of graying vision.

© 2009 Marcea L. Brown. All rights reserved.