A COMMUNAL EXPERIMENT IN SELF CURATION

a Soul Project

archival : first breakdown :

I should have seen it coming.
All along, I should have known
that it was beginning to become
far too difficult to handle
all on my own.
My thoughts barely ever stray
from the subject
of my lost love,
my secret inner death.
How much longer
will this mourning take?
How much more time
will I have to spend
weeping
over something that now
seems so futile and far away.
The worst part isn't that I cried
while singing our song,
or that each line reflects
our past,
present,
and most likely
future relationship...
its that I cracked.
I cracked, again.
I called him. I actually called.
It wasn't just once,
it was seven times.
I even left a message
on the recorder.
And who am I to guess
what he'll think
of the sound of my shaky voice
on the other line.
He has no idea
of the full extent of my words,
of my hesitation.
He has no idea about me.