Hello, goodbye and all that in between

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 This is not poetry

But I’ve taped a string of words I found and cut from a magazine across the back of my phone it reads, “A full return of optimism.” 

The tape is peeling but I don’t mind.

I whisper the phrase to myself every time my finger runs against the lifted edge.

My friend slept in my bed for weeks,

And then my brother for a single night with his knee in my back

But I couldn’t complain.

Because he slept soundly and didn’t mind the way my cat nestled between his legs.

When he mentioned it in the morning, I tentatively mention the way she must’ve felt his unsung sorrow — how she seems to follow where comfort calls.

I’m so far from any place I’ve ever called home,

I know that this is the time people reinvent themselves but honestly I must admit I like the woman I’ve grown into.

I’ve been tempted by the pain, the torture of the past to dispel any part of me any one might claim.

But the truth is,

When I wake up it is only I and none of them.

I am only me.

I wonder about the price of it all as I collect

Lucky pennies.

It’ll be

What is meant to be.


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