Washington
Tonight the weight of the memories is too much to bear.
The things around me make me sick to my stomach: I hate
them with a vehemence I can't explain. Even the pictures
make me feel queasy and inadequate.
Who was I then? Who am I now?
I'm certain then was better.
I'm certain I was better then.
Weak, exhausted by the potency of the remembrances-
I can do nothing but let the tears leak from my eyes.
A weak cry. I do not sob.
The beauty, the vastness, the majesty of a world
so alien, yet so familiar- a place I'd never seen
that I could immediately call home.
Reaching out to it now I find only solitude
and intangible wisps of color, textures, and smells,
nearly forgotten, on the fringe of a reality that is senseless.
Wilderness whispers to me across the miles.
I do not answer.
Well, that's where I ended up tonight. Weird night in general. My poetry professor is really pushing me and this is a messy first draft, but I'm avoiding working on a different poem about something I want to think about even less, so there you have it. I have a love/hate relationship with poetry. Anyway, this is just a first draft and I miss Washington.
Sweet dreams all!
Chelsea
This truely speaks to me personaly, as I may have experienced something similar. Parts of Washington miss you too. The person you where out there was a small piece of what it feels like to be truely, wholely and completely be yourself (judging from my own experience).
ReplyDeleteThat's a good point. It's definitely a learning experience to keep mixing all my highs and lows in "real" life with all my highs and lows from the trip. I feel like I learn something new every time I think about that month. Thanks for reading Abby!!
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