this is just me whispering.

it's night, almost midnight, only a few minutes shy of the mark (by the time i post this, it will be well past it, i'm sure). got the place to myself, which should be a delight.

and is.

and isn't.

i'm lonely. i'm scared. old habits die hard. i always found a shoulder here.

some of it's real: my mom had surgery recently, is recovering down in nashville, but not an easy recovery. there are set-backs.

some of it's imaginary, paper tigers: i can't shake echoes, i'm afraid...

it feels different than her other surgeries. it feels...well, i don't want to put it into words, you understand?

but that's just imaginary, right? that's just fear.

hard to shake when it's just me here, minding the homestead.

and the other side of the coin, if i can turn it over, if i can hang onto the shiny side: more shows, very soon. and all the joy and camaraderie that brings, meeting old friends i never see but online, the way my life is now, and i like it. hopefully i'll live near most of them before too long, but for now, a road trip, and camping out on living room floors and sidewalks and backseats. and being in cities i've never been and can't say i've seen because i never leave the block the venue is in. being more alive and more present and more joyful. and at the end of it, the starland ballroom, like a fairy tale.

i have to get through this, though, to get there.

the thing is (this is the part i'm really whispering, so listen close if you want to catch it), there are places i need to be, there are things i must do, and i don't know if they are right, i don't know if needing them makes me less -- it feels like it must, but still...

even though i carry this fear, even though i carry this mess that i am inside, even if i am nothing but weakness with no strengths, even if there is nowhere i will ever belong, still: who i am, i must be true to her.

maybe imaginary friends are all i get this time around.

i won't change who i am in order to change the cards i've been dealt. even though that leaves me where i am right now. after midnight. listening to a single song on repeat for the comfort of a voice.

leaning on imaginary shoulders.

nice little jolt

maybe i had forgotten exactly how much i like your poetry -- even your prose has an addictive rhythm to it -- and i certainly didn't expect to ever read anything new again...

but there are always surprises, aren't there.

and even though i'm doing my best to keep my eyes fixed on the horizon and go forward, to keep the top of the hill in sight (even when it isn't), it's a solid gift to realize that there's a part of me that is always going to respond to what you write. there are pathways within me that formed here and they don't go away.

so maybe next week i'll be ok. i'll take my magic with me, and meet with kindred spirits, and somehow, there will be an electricity there.

poetry never ends.