And I have no explanation for the hope I’ve found.
Not when everything else tells me
nothing will change.
I have been stretched by time
and airplanes and cars.
And I cannot live
with you so far away,
always waiting for the next intersection.
I’m cleaning out my closet,
straightening book shelves no longer too tightly packed,
sweeping away old habits.
But how can I give away a ghost.
And I’ve been standing around,
fiddling with my keys,
waiting for you to claim me.
But my heart was meant to come alive
And maybe the hope was meant
not for you, but for me.