out from the throes
so the dust has settled and this ash can no longer kindle a flame. it has been many months since i have felt that strain on my throat, that dryness, that sting of a conversation that cuts into the night and into my heart. my words have lost their edge, their sharp syllables and maurdered meanings, but are again soft, simple, and soothing to those that would listen or read them on a page. my eyes are no longer red, but grassy and green, alive as they once were. you were right, as you often are, that these things are at times inevitable. as you said, things had changed. i had changed. you had changed. we, together, were not what we once were, and that is to be expected for all things shed their skin in the summer's heat. even the trees shake their leafs to the wind and the flowers will paint their petals across the ground when the cold of winter digs its fingers down to their roots. i understand, i grasp, i comprehend. but what took the longest to skin and clean and strip down to its meat were the moments that were hardly tangible to begin with, that could not be forgotten, those that could pull the breath from your lungs, stares that could stop the sun from rising. do you remember watching the years shift? that night when i looked into your eyes and spoke the only words i knew or had ever needed to know, the first truth to ever touch the tip of my tongue. "i love you". i swear the world disappeared and there was nothing left but you and your eyes and me and mine. if in that moment i had died and went to heaven i would not have known the difference, nor would i have been able to steer my gaze from you onto the clouds below. you, in that instant, were all i saw, all that mattered, all that was important in all of this world or any other. you were that for me for such a long time, but i have since then learned the length of love and the strides of sorrow. i have seen hearts change their beats, lips miss their mark, and eyes that wander, waver, and blink. so it is. to come to terms with these things can steal a man from his sense and leave his common decency out with the dogs. none the less, i will always wonder of walking grace and a love that has legs to leave. tonight though i am telling the tale of a lesson learned. of how, you were once all i needed and all i ever wanted, but truthfully and bluntly, i do not need you anymore. not to stand, to lean on, or to carry the weight on my shoulders or that of my soul. thank you again, but no. i have found my own legs, and i've taken back my heart.