THAT side

(for them/in secret. secretly)

you miss them
only occasionally, sometimes

sometimes you’re surprised by what you can remember
you know, stuff you thought you lost- maybe even trashed- it turns up untouched
no bruising
and, and.. you want to go back. you wish you hadn’t been
THAT fierce or THAT antagonizing or THAT way…
or so damn prepared, because you should always enter a situation that rare unprepared-
because you are, you know. And all the things that you were you angrily look at/
only remembering that FEELING- you know, like you couldn’t get hurt?
you are so damn BLUNTED now; the sorrow has dried up, it stopped MOVING, instead of grateful/you’re bewildered…
You remember when you remembered EVERYTHING
when every memory was so fresh and freakishly tender
and precious and and… and there was no way to fall without breaks.

You saw that, you know.They saw that you saw that. A look was exchanged.
They didn’t seem, you know, SURPRISED enough for you. SORRY enough.
Now that so much time has passed, there is very little that you extract
but, like today, something came that you thought had gone.. a memory you thought was tucked too far was there,
like perfect weather

You wanna go back and change something…
a few things..
so they confided in you, whatever, and you thought this thing, this trust, went on forever…you thought it
could be tested and established, you didn’t account for weak bridges
they told you something, then they were mad that you ASK’D about it later!
As if it was YOUR FAULT that they told you personal things and then acted like you were IN their BUSINESS when you WERENT!!!instead of realizing what they did-
you didn’t
1) diplomatically see their problem or your reaction
2) notice how to deal in the “best” way with a “desirable” outcome
3) never thought aBOUT outcomes!!!! That was for THEM, they seem’d so BETTER at it, I TOLD THEM THAT!!!
(‘stop it’ they say
‘okay.’ i answer. ‘thanks’ i say, feeling something other people call relief.)
going back in swings on their dime, on their insecurity
(they can handle it! and you’de do anything for them, y’know, when it really COUNTS…)
they counted ahead! they peeked! you showed them the discrepancies!

I’m so sorry…I want to be the other side of me.
I should have been the other side of me.
The side that’s trust is like mountain air or diamonds or eagle eyes.
The side that never, ever, breaks
not even under a torturers instrument.

When 12 you were told you just couldn’t be trusted..(“‘but I haven’t DONE anything- I’ve always tried to be my best mom! WHY mom! WHY”‘)
you KNEW they were wrong, You’de always been so OPEN, but it’s like you had to prove that if necessary
you COULD be unsavory, you could hurt if you had to. to PROVE IT.

you’ve barricaded yourself inside to get away from the knocking and the barging and
the gunshots,
like a hostage,
but it’s not the escape you went looking for!
The side that lives and breathes now
The side that lives and BREATHES now

You want/to go/back/…but only for a moment
And anyway, wouldn’t you feel like LEAVING if you went there?
you never learned any other way to live except
as a runaway- (even a stowaway would do better, you think!)
but unlike before, you can’t FLASH BAM disappear enough.
there’s not another elsewhere to go to.
they’re all gone. no more left. you’ve been to them ALL.
you didn’t perfect the disappearing act!
there’s no romance left in you.
a house without even a ghost to haunt it.
You wished you could get out,
you tried you could, you stormed out you could, you could you should,
but now that you aren’t trying to catch your breath,
you don’t know what to try and catch,
where to go from now,
so desensitized from all the scenery,
oNCE you no longer have that horrible place to run FROM that you compare everything to
what- “then?” you just lower your standards, so you don’t have to deal. So much slips away.
you want to go back… but not too far. Not back to the place you ran from.Just enough/
To where/it COUNTED./it all COUNTED. not too long ago,
in a far away place,
where happy endings were encased
in the hope of the unknown… of all that hadn’t been tasted..
the imagination was so much better back then.
You don’t ask what happened anymore… you know better

or maybe, you know WORSE

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