I was just here.

I was trying.
I always do.
But, you learn as you go,
And you hope,
You hope that this is evident.
The amount of finality
Bashing against the glass of my life,
A lesson I’ve mastered, yet now,
Am motivated to run from;
It reminds you that your hourglass is still dropping sand.

Little, by little.

But, I found myself distracted-
No, not distracted. Forgive my jaded vernacular.
Unmoved, by that crushing weight.
I felt things.
Subtle, soft, soothing tingling sensations,
Trickling along my nerves.
Like a cool cloth to sore wounds.
Living. Breathing. Seeing a full spectrum of color again.
And, for no cost, other than joy.
I wish she could see the way light reflects in her eyes,
When she faces the sun and looks at me.
This is what it has to be. At long last.
I’d pay another thirty two to be standing here,
Looking into those pools of blue and green.
Shades coalescing to signify:

I’m wanted here.
I’m seen.
I’m cared for.

A part of me will never leave here.