Author: Elizabeth Maynard

I have almost reached
my end again
begin to stretch out
this hand to touch and turn
the golden knob

Now I am used down to the last
What could I give now
not already laid on that gray stone?

Surface now, dear one
you have been drowning without
hope, raft, or dry land

Be careful what you wish for:
One day the very thing you imagine
will drape itself languorously
across your path
remind you of your longing
every unmet need
promise itself to you
ripe and full
if only you are brave enough
to take it

What is it to tell the truth about your life?
Love lost, time wasted
on all the strangers you longed to be

You promise yourself
again
to step down from the block
It is not them
but you
who trades yourself so cheaply

The day after yawns empty
as grief plays fear's tune
promises only more calamity

It is such a great small thing
to be kind, gentle in word
deed, and gaze
ask the small question
remember love lost
longed for and never known

Each flower bends, lends
its soft center to your kiss
your sweet heart made light

You opened me with a scalpel:
I did not feel my skin make way
or know each part loosened
I felt only beating fear
the resolve to survive
what I could not escape
the chill of the room
as each nauseating wave
swept over but could not break me
It took every aching day
each mending stitch
to bring sense to every part
and see myself whole