I Tell Myself, “She’s Off Limits.”

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womanportrait
Portrait of the dreaming Gertii—Egon Schiele 1911

and sometimes, it works.
others, I find myself
knocking at my brain,
trying to get it to shift
from thoughts of her to
thoughts of something else.
when I hear her voice,
the core of me lights up,
happiness centers around
my entire being.

I want to sit seaside with her,
shake my feet alongside hers
in the calming coolness of the
spring water.
I pick up my phone.
I put it down.
I pick it up.
I put it down.
This becomes a test of
testing my strengths and
my weaknesses and I
am weak for her.

I don’t want to be.

I want to be moved
without moving and yearn
without yearning, but in order
to do this, I have to
learn to let her go.
how do I do that when
all I have ever wanted
was to hold onto
her?

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