As if torture formed an attachment deep in my chest

A poem by Sean Kathryn Bratton

If not you, then who? The question that haunts my mind. If not this, then what? The echo sent to distraught my time.

It’s that unknown, it’s that past my comfort zone. It weighs me down and jacks my sleep, yet it holds the answers and the key. What is left for me to do? Should I befriend it, will it take away anxiety and breed anew?

The answer is obvious, I’m not beneath common sense. It’s this trust I’m cultivating that must reign present tense.

In this pursuit to let you go, let go of it all and allow the unfold. Something whispers in my ear with slimy breath, as if torture formed an attachment deep in my chest.

But what is hope? What is hope for something so specific? When behind the unknown could all be terrific.

What if a plan beyond my senses, could blow me away and I let myself miss it. What if I let go and allow myself to trust, what if I lean into the Divine with her magic touch.

Every day I let you go just a little bit more. Every day I let you go and my heart becomes torn.

I must live for the now, the ever unfolding now. And here now you are not, even in my heart’s doubt. My heart feels your presence, every smile and every tear. But my heart can feel for anyone, I ever drew near.

I let my heart grieve. I let my heart bleed. I let my face cry, when thoughts of you arise.

But what about when I bleed out, and no one’s there to hear me shout. I’ll wish I had opened up to someone new, someone who bleeds in color for me, like I did for you.

In my commitment to myself and the plan of the Divine, I say goodbye to you, and one last farewell to our good times. I wipe my tears away, dry my hands and hold them out, for whoever is meant for me will pursue and hunt me down.

If it’s you, if it’s not, acceptance is where I’ll stay. If it’s you, if it’s not, is now a question I put away.

I no longer hope, or wish, or dream. I just let it unfold, what is meant to be, will be.