Infatuation

Infatuation

Misplaced. Lost.

It was a stress that came with familiarity.

I am empty and it shows.

My scars reflect the damage from an unrequited love.

Tears scream down my face in the hope that someone sees me,

Understands me,

Loves me.

That someone will want to listen.

But I stay there,

Stagnant.

I am aimlessly throwing darts to an invisible board, while striving for unattainable desires.

Your healing power begins to lose its potency,

Traveling further and further away with each destructive thought.

I ask myself why I cannot feel you.

You tell me it’s because of my sacred idols of attention and affection.

I wonder to myself,

“Haven’t I already been here?”

and,

“Is this déjà vu?”

And you listen.

You keep me with

Words that kiss my imperfections with a seal of encouragement and warmth.

Your soothing peace eases my despair and detangles me from my web of mind.

It’s as if you know me,

Really know me,

At the innermost places that even confuse me about myself.

Fear creeps into my heart because of such dreaded vulnerability,

As I wonder if this high will also be short-lived.

The days go on and on and I am tremendously pleased as

Your care stands sturdy with such posture and intimidation that everyone near

Falls to their knees with adoration.

I begin to realize there is something different about you and your promises.

I wait for the moment you fail me,

But it never comes.

Years pass as fast as the seasons and the seasons as fast as the days,

But Your love remains.

Why was I giving all my attention to those of perishable endearment,

Those of wonder and magic,

Those of broken promises,

When my creator’s love was not one of infatuation.

by Idalis French

Dear Grandmother

Dear Grandmother

My Feet Hasten: A Letter to my Grandfather

My Feet Hasten: A Letter to my Grandfather