The Blood & The Bones

I didn’t mean for

“maybe in my next life”

to become my mantra

but here I am

going against the very religion of my upbringing and praying reincarnation exists

as if pretending this is enough for now

will soften

the sharp pang of that hunger

after each disappointment quietly quitting the hunt for the thing I think is more but necessary

The thing I have bared my soul, bid my time and sometimes even bruised my body to find,

not willing to really admit to myself that this is how defeat begins

I don’t cry out for time to move faster when I look in the mirror

or for time slow down in a moment that feels close to it

Nothing as tragic as that

instead, I soothe myself with the thought that beyond this there must be a sort of earned deliverance that awaits all of us, not just me

there is a sense of security in that long anticipated submission and acceptance

I know there I will find a way to lay it at the feet of someone else

a way to to fill a broken cup

there I will calm a storm I think I created

I will know the beast without fear

And hear my own voice finally speak without the blur of others

I haven’t stopped hoping, i don’t think I can

I haven’t stopped giving this existence as many chances as I am given

but truly I have never ceased to pray that maybe in the one and only life I may get, the thing I need most finds me or I find it without being able to admit I’m still looking

the blood

& the bones