Newfound Identity

I find that
I find myself
just watching;
watching you talk;
talk to your family;
talk to your friends.

I find that
I find myself
just watching;
watching you find yourself;
watching you be yourself.

I find that
I find myself
just admiring;
admiring you for who you are;
admiring you for all you are.

I find that
I find myself
just thinking;
thinking of how lucky I am;
thinking of how I am smiling!

I find that
I find myself
realizing;
realizing that
I find that
I find myself
in you.

December 27, 1993

Playing For Keeps

No!
No matter what the cost;
no matter how much he thinks...
I don't want to hear it.

Just words;
empty vocals;
Don't waste your breath.
It was just a fleeting thought
at my expense.

Save it
for someone you'll devote yourself to.
Surely, it won't be me.
Not me!
No matter how much you think...
I just can't take it again.


Wait!
What did you say?
Your arms are holding me.
You are looking out for me.
You know exactly what will hurt me.

What did you say?
Your arms are holding me.
You are looking at losing just as much.
You are in the same position.
This had to be thought through.

Maybe
it could be just what I need.
I want to hear it again.
You love me?
Such words!

No matter what the cost,
I want to hear it.
Yes!

December 16, 1993

Waves

I was perched upon a cliff,
overlooking a sea of sorrows.
A swift breeze surpassed my hair,
denying me the promise of tomorrow.

It had felt so good
to need and to want;
to be held; to have felt
to teach and be taught.

It hurt so bad
to let somebody touch me
when it was but a joke.
He never loved me.

Words spoken with empty meaning,
yet meaning everything to me;
made and broke my delicate world.
Heartache became my destiny.

Never, would I swim these waters.
Never, I vowed, again.
Each crash of every wave
only brought back the pain.

Today, I find myself
again swimming the waters.
With every flow of each wave,
the flame is growing hotter.

Words spoken seem to be full
of worth and meaning;
illuminating my dark world,
as if in sleep, I'm dreaming.

Old hurt stands by,
as I let somebody touch me;
reminding me of the joke--
How could someone love me?

But...
It feels so good
to need and to want;
to to be held; to feel;
to teach and be taught.

I'm perched upon a cliff,
looking over a sea of sorrows.
A swift breeze sifts through my hair,
carrying the promise of tomorrow.

December 13, 1993