and to the distance

23/09/24

and to the distance,
I would say 
I still love
everyone I have ever loved,
and never again
will I choose bitterness.

for love and hate
mark the same hand,
and we hold onto anger
as a way to still hold onto them,

but not a million bad words,
or death by public humiliation
no cross nor stake
could negate the love 
contained within me

not a million pointed fingers,
nor a place in hell
can ever change the fact
that to be human, and flawed
is to be free

for there is no white heaven,
or hot, black hell,
just every shade of grey
in the clouds between 

love is a choice,
a door 
that can be walked through
again and again,
no matter how many times
we slam it shut -
after even a war

love is never wasted
nor lost
it only transforms

anyone can walk the path to hell
and turn back around

and to the distance, 
I would say 

there is none.

not in my heart.

not between the fabric of memories
where love is safely contained 
no matter how her stare
has now changed,

oh to my friend 
whose quiet voice 
is a mountain in its stillness,

who told me, 

“think of how many dishes your hands have washed”
when I told her I was afraid of getting old - 

who said, 

“don’t borrow grief from the future”,
when I told her I was scared of heartbreak,

who said,

“you are going to the edge of what it means to be human”
when I said I was scared to make art

I would simply say,
I miss you, so much,
forever and always

what I would give to be with you, 
right now,
in a kitchen, by the sink
marvelling at the time 
etched into our palms

and to the friend 
who called me an ‘emotional leader’,
who gave me so much faith
and was so bright in their light
I could follow them,
and leave a cave,

I would say, 

“I see you,
you are beautiful,
please leave your own, now
and see yourself, too”

and to one of my very best friends
who rang me every day, for hours
as I sat in salt-tear pools 
in my childhood playground
but retreats like an ocean
whenever I sound too much like his mother,

I would say;

“I’m sorry. 
please draw lines in the sand for me
so I can meet you where you are”

and to the distance,
I would say,
there is an edge to every desert
if I walk far enough

and to my longest companion,
enemy, now,
no longer a lover,
but who I have always 
considered a brother,
the person I have known so deeply,
in a way 
I may never know anyone else again,

who is so scared of being abandoned
he always stabs first, 

who is spiralling 
at nearly seven hundred million miles per hour
to the earth

I would gently say,

unclench your fists.

drop the knife.

you are capable of love,

I have seen it.

I am neither heaven nor hell,
black or white
wrong or right,

I am as grey as the sky
you have fallen from

there is always a road out,

always,

a burning shipwreck
(a turning shipwreck)

ascension,
(spiralling)

there is always 
a crack
in everything,

that’s how the light
gets in

coming in through the blinds,
that was your line

(every word
was always for you)

and while I can no longer take this journey with you,

I hope you someday find it -

for every road out leads anywhere.

and to the distance, 
I would say, 
when the world is ending 

what is left?

only each other

only the waves
meeting again, when they can 

only the bridges 
it is never too late to re-build

only the lines drawn in the sand.