lists to avoid the truth

He said,
make a list.
write it out, draw it out, talk it out.
buried things never leave, they just Bite.

so 
I'm writing about Shampoo, Clovers, and Hot chocolate, and what they all have in common.
I'm writing about midnights with a full moon and midnights with a new one.
I'm writing about fruit cake jokes and watermelon fights and summers when our knees and hands had dirt stains.

so really I'm writing about you.
they remind me of you

I haven't THOUGHT about shampoo or smiled when I saw a clover or made hot chocolate since then.
I haven't looked at the moon so long that I could drown in its blurred white light or gotten lost in the dark sky since then.
I don't want to laugh about fruit cake because the memories hurt.
and watermelon fights would hurt even more.
and gardens suffocate my heart.

I got some "help."
The man said, make a list.  buried things never leave, they just bite, bite, bite,
so, he said,
Make A List.
write it out, draw it out, talk it out.

We painted once at the bridge and I haven't since.
i can't talk with anyone the way we could
and i can't make the words come out of my mouth, i choke and my breath catches and the words come out on mute,
but we never wrote together.  
but i'm glad you never wrote me a love letter because paper is still safe for me,

and without these papers the words and the memories and the thoughts would have taken so many bites that my heart would only by a shape inside my chest, a small one, a torn one, dysfunctional.

and so i've listed the hurts and then, yes i burned the lists and i like to think i feel free.
but obviously i'm not because i'm still writing and it still hurts just as real as if i had never pretended it didn't.

my heart still bleeds at night
my hands still tremble when i want you back
my head still hates you when i remember
my lists are using too many matches and i need to buy some more.  
(i got rid of the lighter because there's a memory on that too.)

but i can't draw or talk and it hurts to think and writing lets the thoughts come out without a fight.
its better than being numb.
its better than it was.

i'll tell myself its better

i can't wait to believe.


everett mills