Trying to find a new style...

Anniversaries

I wrote that email at eight thirty
On a cold January morning
After a sleepless night in which
The weight of a dark, wet dawn
Hung heavily over my tear-rimmed eyes.
(The footprints of those filthy memories
Which used to haunt my nights
Have now carved deep pathways through
My waking thoughts where
Every day they tread.)

It's nearing November again,
And I dread the death, the cold,
And the chill in my heart.
(Not forgetting the sixteen weary ways
Of reminding myself of how
I never quite measured up.)

I wish summer were beginning again,
But if it were, I would have
To relive Memorial Day.
(And then I would have to picture
A scraggly tree, and hear
My own nervous, breathy laughter,
And wonder why the familiar strains
Of that now-memorized song
Won't stop playing its
Endless soundtrack in my mind.)

But my waking nightmare is okay for now.
It reminds me to pray for you every day.
(It's comforting to think that
We might be friends again
Someday in Heaven,
Even though you don't believe
I'll make it there.)

I'm trying to enjoy this new autumn.
(But April thirtieth was last night,
Eight thirty on a January morning
Was just the other day,
And November sixteenth has wrapped itself
Around me like a badly-fashioned
Faux-fur winter coat.)

The bottom line is -
Some anniversaries just aren't worth celebrating,
But it hurts much worse to forget.

Trying to find a new style...
That girl in Switzerland