Letters on the Verge

I sit, waiting.

For pain to go away

Throat to clear

Dust to settle.

I drink from the mug

It reads 'cup of love.'

There are so many ways to cope

And yet...

Do I need to?

Can I bear this place?

Get uncomfortable here.

Wear the grief.

My body was made

For this way and that way.

For having and yearning.

For loving and hurting.

I know I am alive

Because I feel.

I know it will pass

Because of waves.

Back and forth

To land

And sea.

Paddling

Wading

Through history.

Now

At last

Feet on shore

Sun on face

Nothing

More.

-I will not judge you.

Alysa