Living A Story

Her writing fills her life
As living never does
Dreams and poems become real
Closing her eyes
Trying to hide behind written pictures of joy and passion
Tears flow with the words and pour from her fingers

And I know the sorrow
Wishing for the fulfillment in her stories
Hoping for a life of her dreams

To go back in time and start again wouldn't help
To go forward would only make the past less familiar
I don't want to let go of the hurt that releases him
To know that not even cries remain
When they are gone so is his existence in my world
Just another character imagined in my life of books
Rereading friends and living the lives of others
To disappear from my own
Sometimes the hurt and pain continue through the day,a dull ache
At others, a familiar song stabs my memory
And rips his loving words from my heart with an anguished cry

To live for others is only existing
I hide behind smiles
Believing that none can see the dull pain of alone

She doesn't search through crowds for his face
To recognize his walk in a crowd
Straining to see... hoping he is returning to her
But knowing that will never be
Even with their meeting.

How do you live with sorrow?
Is it forgotten in a drawer with letters folded and worn from longing?
The memories of caring words in deep voices fill my mind
And the suffering leaks down my face
Cooling the passion that is still there.

Don't leave me
Don't let me leave you
Don't say goodbye
Don't wish me well
Just go and give me forgetting your laugh
So that I can continue on my walk for others
Across an empty world

Becoming Jane

Happy endings can be written
but not lived with the passion
and yearning for their life together

Alone in the future with words for company
each story ending with love
while her own must continue without
not willing to hurt him through his family

Doing what is right and necessary
Instead of what is wanted
For a love never to be lived
but imagined and dreamt
Created with characters

each one, him
each hero, him

because her thoughts are full of him
and the only way to rid herself of them
is to give them to others
as she has given him to others

Everyday, every night
She remembers his behaviors and tones
With a smile on her face.
Hoping that he is happy
That what she has lost
He has gained without her

She was never erased
Always a reminder
In a name of a beloved child

It does not still the beating of her heart
or dry the tears on her soul

He has not forgotten


If only he had,
then perhaps one day she will.

Persuasion

Jane Austen's Persuasion and last week was Jane Eyre. What bittersweet joy! Love and happy endings. No more writing tonight. Just watching and tissues.