The Middle Ground

 

Blue leather bound notebooks,
filled with sound bite starts

of poetry, prose,

and the occasional grocery list,

litter my bed.

 

In the dark of night,

paper crinkles

beneath me

as I turn over,

adjust my pillow,

find a cool spot,

and drift off to sleep

yet again.

 

The center of my bed

used to be reserved

for couple-cuddling,

fucking,

and the wall of pillows

I’d build when my latest

relationship fell apart

so the bed

wouldn’t seem so empty.

I never ventured there solo,

until now.

 

Now I occupy the whole bed

without apology,

taking possession of it

smack dab in the middle.

Stretched out, spread eagle

I sleep well these days.

Really well.

 

Curled up with my books

and my dog,

I am as safe as ever.

No need for someone to watch the cave door

for I am my own protector.

 

~ Mk Michaels

An Imbalance of Kindness

 

 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference. ~ Robert Frost

 

 

 

In coming apart,

there is the tendency to be petty,

angry,

mean.

Whenever possible, I chose otherwise

for this is who I am.

I considered

you kind,

in the beginning,

until I realized that broken

trumps kind.

I know this now.

 

Endings are not amusing

for either party;

the ender

or the endee,

in spite of their relative differences.

 

The endee’s ending is obvious;

shock,

grief,

betrayal,

abandonment,

anger.

To end well takes

courage and a sense of self

you, unfortunately, didn't possess.

 

The ender’s is more subtle

and often overlooked.

No one wants an end,

unless it is the only option

and, for us,

there is no doubt

it was

the only option.

To end well takes

courage and a sense of self.

For me, it was important to

end well.

 

 

In spite of many, many experiences

as the endee,

this time,

I was the ender

and my experience

was anything but pleasurable;

loss,

deep sadness,

more loss,

and solitude,

all by choice.

 

This ender also chose kindness,

whenever possible

in spite of this specific endee’s

fictional account to the contrary.

 

Generosity,

in the face

of punitive

retribution.

Kindness,

when confronted

with injured cruelty.

Going high,

when the endee

went low,

oh so low.

 

Words and actions

intended to hurt,

from perceived injury.

An affair considered

in the midst

of struggling to build

our happily ever after.

Stripping away

tokens of love

now viewed as

a financial asset,

because you knew it mattered

to me.

Rubbing flawed anesthesia

in my face,

entirely unnecessary and

intended to cause harm.

…and it did

for a moment.

After the tears,

I saw it for what it was;

yet another act of

manipulation

in a long series of acts

which left me no choice,

but to chew off my leg

and end us.

 

I’ll admit,

when met with a barrage

of immature and cruel

intentions, I bit

several times, in fact.

I could rationalize

showing my teeth was deserved

warranted,

earned,

but I apologized,

ceased,

desisted,

and created distance

yet again

to shelter my soul

from the toxicity of you.

 

By and large, though

I chose kindness

and in taking

the road less traveled

it has made all the difference

for me.

 

 ~ Mk Michaels

Morning Musings

In this, my winter of discontent, spring has come early, earlier than expected and I am eternally grateful. 

The Tuscan sun is my companion and I find her warmth burgeoning up from my belly and building in my chest. Henry the VIII and poetry are my bedfellows and don't mind that I sleep in the center now. Morning coffee, resplendent with the alluring notes of Hawaii, slips down my throat warming me through and through. Birds outside trill their happiness for an early morning rain which replenished their bath. I make a note to fill the bird feeders in appreciation for their song.

For the first time , in a long time, I am intensely thankful for those who are no longer here for no longer being here. I am thankful for the quiet and peace their absence brings. I am thankful the only demons in my bed are mine, for I know them and know the pace of their walk.

As peace has returned so have my words and I greet them like long-lost friends. We sit together amiably and share the bounty of our table. The words have brought with them newfound love; hearth and home, flavors and friends, adventure and awe.  In this, I envision creating new words to describe new experiences, new people, new discoveries.

I am building a path to the deepest recesses of my heart even before I have met the explorer courageous enough to make the trek and build a home there. I am not for the faint of heart (in spending time with myself I am coming to realize this more deeply than ever), but believe a worthy match will be courageous enough to face her own demons as I face mine and, in time, nestle into the comfort of the 'we' of us.

In all of this, I feel a deep and abiding patience. There is no rush for I believe time and the universe are on my side.

~ Mk Michaels