the miles between life
My mind is a million miles away from work.
How’d I get all the way over here?
Is there a train going back?
Can I get back by 6am tomorrow morning?
I gotta be in the icu,
I gotta be able to react,
I gotta be able to leave
all my cycling emotions
in the subway,
in the elevator
going up to the 8th floor in the VA.
They’ll be waiting for me when I get out.
Waiting to cycle back down to the basement.
Where I can lay down trying to recover
for however many hours and days it takes.
I’m out here a million miles away
and there’s no sleep here
in the vacuum,
there’s no rest here,
clawing through every inch of a million miles,
there’s exhaustion,
there’s distortion
of the shapes hiding in the darkness,
there’s loneliness
in the dark.
Sound doesn’t travel here,
not even sounds of love.
But Light travels here,
even one photon makes it out here,
I’m seen even when I don’t want to be seen.
I’m seen no matter how far away I try to be.
I see you.
I see you, even when you don’t want to be seen.
All of us and our millions of miles, still seen.
The space and time laid before us
and for those growing from us.
It’s taken me three decades
to not be afraid of what the light shows.
I’m still growing,
I’m still letting go of the dark,
I don’t want to cast shade on your light.
