“The only thing I want,” you sigh
“is to return to my home, Oregon.”

is this wish
why you are so wild
flower i could never pick
but dare chose
for my thoughts
to rise with new morning hopes
to rest gently upon
when the day ends

is this wish why
you are my Oregon
though I am not yours?

I want to be your Oregon.

so believe me when I say
I know how much it hurts
(never really) letting go
of your dream of being
in her arms again.

I let go of my dream
over and over
every time I see you leave
and slowly give up hope
each passing day
of ever seeing you again
(but pray, don’t be sad for me
this is who I am
and gladly still will be
without you)
Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn
whether you understand
why I am the way I am

My feelings are beyond
my own comprehension
rest assured they are beyond your control
so push or pull
all you want
Whatever part of you wants me to give up
will continue to be disappointed

Because I see
you grow wilder
and more free
without me
your rivers swell wetter with rain
without me
your trees flush brighter with moss
without me
sunbeams cut sharper through the fog

but when I return I always find
your forests and beaches overflowed by
unpredicable magic and happy surprises
and I live to wallow in your
unforeseen beauty

I have found the hill
upon which I will so gladly die
over and over
I say to my friends,
who watch me rise and fall
each and every time i die,
(they tell me the cost of your heart
is my heart) is too high)
is being able to live without you)
but my heart knows no rise
is too steep or fall too high
or risk too great
to gain the promise of your heart
even though I know
your heart doesn’t make mistakes (like promises)

Your walls are important to you, I see
As important as my feelings are to me

but my heart doesn’t care about
walls or don’ts or anymores
so here I am, your paramour
willingly lost in my own paradox
of consuming desire
to have just that
which I cannot afford,
an affair with a heart
already spoken for

on i go nonetheless, dreaming
by faith alone I know
sweeter than certainty,
the wildest dream of
seeing you again someday
is worth all the moments lost
every over and over
forgiving tomorrow again
as though it’s already here
living any today we spend together
blinded by bliss, nowness
like we’ve never been here before
like we’re never coming back
like I am Oregon

Woe is me, who waits
for your return
loving every over and over
while you recover
hungover from being vulnerable
I take half steps back
when you ask me not to remind you
how much you opened up
the night before

because sometimes walking away
is the opposite of giving up
sometimes goodbye just means
I love you more
when you’re free

(and because I understand
sometimes it’s just as fun
to pretend
I am my own Oregon,
and run away to find myself)

Why do I act the way I do?
I’m just as confused as you.
And I love me more
when I am free,

inspiration and photo credit to Micheal Ann

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s