Tonight I could write the saddest lines
Tonight I could write the saddest lines.
I could write about my childhood,
or the childhood of my parents.
I could write about the break in my heart,
a crack where only the darkness gets in.
I think, if only I could feel the ocean wash over me,
with it’s ancient energy, so teaming with life,
I might let it take me away
and swallow me whole,
or I might let it baptize me.
Perhaps I could be a new woman,
I’m so tired of being me,
it’s who I’ve been for so long.
I live inside my pain, it’s too hard
to think of leaving it alone.
I know the saddest things and I could write
about them tonight, into the morning,
instead, I think of the ocean
and the sand cool beneath my feet,
going under, but just for a moment.
The gravity, the magnetic pull of waves,
doesn’t want me as much as I want it.
That feels like the one true thing I know.
Still, I long to see my daughter’s footprints,
the ones she never made,
the ones that were never washed away
by the tide like my own.
Thinking of her was how I survived
my childhood. I never
got to thank her for always being with me.
She decided not be born
and there’s no way to mourn her,
there’s no body to cover in dirt and sand.
When I walk on the beach,
I could be anywhere, I imagine
the cusp of an ocean,
the cusp of a universe
the outer limits of my soul.
I dream of the raging Atlantic on a storm filled night,
just me and earth and heaven,
what would we conspire,
what understanding could we reach,
is there any kind of freedom to be found?
Can I walk away from my pain without walking into death?
I am too sad to write the saddest lines
for a childhood that never was.
© 2018, A. Breslin. All Rights Reserved