Moritation

back before your house was unfinished,
down around the time when she burned dinner
underneath the chair that could swallow me home
i wept

for every family member that passed, slowly shearing our tree down to a few branches, for every funeral i went to, there were always other days. other days that separated the black dresses from the pale pink ones and the wavering voices from the confident tones. the other days filled up entire chunks of time in between the sad and the lonely. they pushed me off to school and around to places in town you could only find if you tried. on other days i would take my life and throw it into seemingly crazy situations only to grab it back before anyone considered it in real danger.
some other days i watched tv
other days i rode rollercoasters

what bothers me as i sit here are all of the other days that are starting to disappear. there are barely any other days left to fill time between grief and loss, between tears and discontinuity.

now that my other days are beginning to be limited, i would like to spend them doing great and inspiring things. give me a sunny other day that fills my soul with joy, just to be breathing in the air. i want to feel alive and run through the woods and end up on the side of a highway; breathing heavy eyes wild just staring around in awe of the pavement. i don't mind the construction. no, i don't mind it. maybe new isn't what i need in my other days either. maybe i need what i've always known.

so take me home to the silent rippling waters of the lake. i want to hear the dock creaking as i walk it like a plank. i want to feel my lungs burn from holding my breath underwater. more than anything i want to see that tree whole again and climb its branches. i want to feel the weight of the tree supporting me, as i climb to the top. if i could just reach the top i know i could see everything. the why's, the when's,

the next other day.