“Write from the scars not the wounds”

 

Coach-

 

I’ve been meaning to write

for sometimes now,

not because you deserved it

or

would take the time to apply

this to your life.

 

I’ve been meaning to write,

your own losses aren’t entirely my

And just because you said you cried the other night

you never admitted defeat

except only on my behalf.

 

I’m not a conduit for your

falling.

I’m not a surrogate for your

inability to transform.

 

Sometimes, in the morning, my

ankles still hurt.

 

Sometimes, in the morning, I wake

cold

trying to shiver away

the dreams I still have regarding you.

 

And sometimes I think I can go into gyms,

even unrelated ones, without a panic attack.

 

I’ve been meaning to write this,

But it’s been a year since

I said no.

I’ve since been lost

in my newfound ability

to taste the way seasons

change

by thickness of the air

and openness of heart.

 

I’ve been meaning to write

but since I’ve been lost in

seeing what the hours two, three, four

six and seven look like, not through a window.

 

I’ve been meaning to

smell spontaneity

smell spring in the melting snow

without having to cry.

 

I’ve been

hearing the words I say.

Writing, eating and crying

feel healthy—not necessary—but prescribed.

 

I’ve

touched the box I locked last March

with the leather skin I learned to desire.

I’ve been considering a look inside.

 

Today.

 

I stepped away.

 

                        -Danielle Walczak