An Ode to Long Distance
It is not easy to miss you every day.
Who says you are the one
When words run dry
And people sit in sweltering anger
Sweating from my eyes
Tense to the miles between us
Tents packed in our bags
Unwilling to make a home for us
Slipping up on rocks
Covered in the water running from our mistakes
Exercising our rights to not be okay
What are we to say what we are
Who are we to presume
We are naked
Promiscuous in our agendas
Calendars dictating our days
They are numbered
We are numbered
You are not a number
In the list of men
You stand six feet and five inches tall
In the list of men and women
You are in bold letters
Screaming things will not work
You are stronger
You did not cry as I
Crying does not make you weak
I am stronger
When you left my car
We said goodbye
We said our forevers
We were forever.
A year not too late
The package arrives
Too large to fit inside a mailbox
It is six five
Christmas came late
I am pudding in your hands
All of the memories swarm
Bees sting my heart
And I remember the love
It is not without pain
But it is home.
About the Creator
Jessica Klein
Therapist by day, writer by night.
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To Whom It May Concern
To the doctor and nurses who delivered me and immediately wrapped me in a pink blanket to lay on my mother’s chest. From the moment I was born, I was assigned the color pink. You assigned me this color to identify me as a girl. I was destined to love pink, Barbies, and unicorns - not because of my nature or because that was what I had chosen, but because that is what girls are supposed to like. Why would we like anything else? Girls must wear cute pink dresses with pink bows in their hair.
By Jessica Klein3 years ago in Poets
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