Breathe in, Breathe out.
Move
One foot and then the other,
and eventually the sceanery will change.
I tell myself, everyday,
Across a thousand miles
But internal sceanery remains the same.
I am still walking through the shadow that you cast.
Still see before me those eyes that caught me
Held me.
Like some Le Brea creature
Sucked under.
Slow drowning when I try to breathe
in, breathe out.
I tell myself when the banshee wail of a distant train echoes through the lonely night
and memory comes calling so convincingly
that everything is okay but without the rise and fall of your chest against my back,
I suffocate,Unable to breathe in,breathe out.
I tell myself to let the pain flow through,
my only option, since nothing known to man
can ease the pain.
Like phantom limb syndrome, I still feel you
Long after amputations scars have healed.
Long after foot, in front of foot, in front of foot,has taken me away.
Poem By Tammy C.
