If there’s anything I could contribute to a child from this stream of thoughts, it’s perhaps the efforts of attempting difficult tasks of speaking to ourselves, (then as he/she grows up), of laying the past down, and stepping out.
You. My Imaginary You.
I’m going to let us go.
Took me a while to realize
I am a person, too.
Lost in a dream about us
For more than twenty years
I pressed myself to stay asleep
Not waking up wasn’t too bad
It was all I had,
Or thought I did.
You and my imaginary you
Held up the sky
I was never in any harm
You shielded me from drugs and destruction
I just forgot about the trees
I hardly heard the sea
Or the swallows, is all.
Grey clouds meant nothing,
Nothing more than a smirk.
And all these that I’d neglected
Are now part of the beautiful treasure
My heart seeks,
And finds.
My heart breathes in,
And sighs.
My dear heart has been ready to let us go.
And we must
Let go.
You and your real you will be fine.
Me and my clear me will trust that.
I shall still think about you
And worry a bit about you
But not everyday
Just sometimes in the remaining lifetime.
My world was quietly heroic because of you
I want to keep ‘Thank you’ in my heart
So it won’t sound like a roaring ‘Goodbye.’
I’m going to let us go.
But I’m not going to let them die.
I’m cleaning out my house
So the smell of grass and soil can swim in.
So I won’t feed on shadows forever.
I’m learning to hold up my own sky.
(Don’t worry, we’ll all be fine.)
The minute you are ready, too,
Breathe. See. Love.
Stay safe. Be healthy.
I’ll see you on our brief sometimes,
My imaginary you.
Then I’ll tell you about the new things I’ve done
Without
You.
Don’t be sad.
Don’t be scared.
We’ll all be fine,
And finally alive.
…
What is your most beautiful thing? (It can be your daughter’s smile, a favourite poem, a bout of silence, climbing a mountain, meeting someone special …)
I'd love to hear from you. And please remember to check out Fiona's book:
The Most Beautiful Thing











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