It’s been some time since you’ve heard from me.
I used to write to you in dreams and cheers,
in strides and crawls, in one foot after the other.
I used to write on my porch while it rained and
in my bed when my feet wouldn’t move me.
I filled pages with hopes and pleas,
scratches of shame and cries for forgiveness.
My journals were stacked high in dust and bones
and wounds that bled drops of ink onto every
page until you were well pleased with my strength.
They were my prayers, each word was for you.
Words as patches of pavement
to keep the road smooth and the load light.
But these words began to crush me.
The letters that made me feel so loved
now made me feel so alone. I had reached into my
soul and pulled out everything you asked for
until there was nothing left.
So I gathered my pleas and vows and cries
into a handful of soil and buried them beneath my feet.
I still walk upon the soil every so often
as a reminder of where I’ve been.
I think that’s why it’s been some time since you’ve heard from me.