Saturday, June 13, 2009

drafting stolen lines ...

Tell me... have you ever thought...of changing your life?*

what is this word, change?
what is this need, to be changed?

did you not notice your hair, growing longer every day as you moved ritualistically through the basic mechanics of our life? or did you wake up one day and feel a need to shave it bare against your scalp?

i believe you, i, we are always in a state of flux, but

i do not want to change my life. i am not the wrong size, bought at the not-so-local, local big box; returnable if the receipt can be found, still lingering in the bottom of your purse with last winter's chapstick and some random lemon drop. i am not last season's color, mismatched when viewed against new things sprung around you.

Perhaps i shrank; grew too tight, squeezing breath from you, struggling with change. Perhaps i withdrew into the quiet inside, leaving you alone, struggling with change. Perhaps i failed to say

i am just me. unabashedly, unashamedly i am just me. and i love you yet.

* "I stole the first line of this post from the play, Betrayal, by Harold Pinter" and i got the idea from a blawg at which i lurk with regularity ...

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