The Good Fight
I have to stop this before it starts. I feel you, growing, welling churning your way inside of me, but I don’t dare call you by name. No. That would make you real. I can walk a little faster. Try a little harder. Motion my hands in the wave of a fan, trying to blow your scent away, but I can smell you, as pungent as a lily in full bloom, I see you. Raining down over me, making my swagger tilt to the side, leaving me a little dumb, silly and blind. No. I must turn my head and look in the opposite direction because running toward this would cost me too much. So I bury my head in the sand, keep my fingers on the keys and type it out. Type you out. Type until this, this feeling becomes a distant memory, ugh! But there you are again. No. I must turn my head and look in the opposite direction and fight to recall every bad thing you’ve ever said or done to me, but that list is entirely too short and the good begins to march its way in, Lord God almighty, I miss this feeling! Of waking up with lingering traces of dreams of you on my smile and remembering the sound that filled my ears when you said I love you. No. I must turn my head and look in the opposite direction and struggle to remember why it’s bad for me to feel this way. I can do this. I must push. I’ve got to push. It is necessary for me to push because all of this cannot happen. It’s not fair, but it’s right. It’s not what I need, but its right. It’s not the truth, but, its, right. The dreams that I’ve dreamed and the secret silent symphonies will have to be enough for me because this fight, this fight is the good fight and yes I chose to accept. So please, please stop invading the sanctuary of my mind and making it so hard to breathe because I have to keep fighting. There is too much at stake so I have to fight, and I hope, that you will put up your dukes and fight too. It’s not fair, it’s not easy, it’s not nice, but it’s right. Please, don’t fight for me, fight against me. Please, leave me to my calling. Leave me to my passion, please, step away from the door and let me just write.
