My poem “I Pretend You’re Watching Me” is featured today on the fabulous poetry site Bar None Group. This is the third poem of mine the site’s lovely editor Mark Butkus chose to publish. The first, “New York Rain,” quickly entered their “Hall of Fame” in 2011 and has stayed there for over two years, much to my delighted surprise. The second was the mournful fantasy “Behind the Carousel” published in February 2012 between two horrific events (those who follow my blog know of which I speak), so I wasn’t able to promote it effectively. In fact, I had even forgotten they had published that poem. Events around and for months after that horrific week have become fuzzy in my memory. Such are the effects of PTSD.
My latest poem, “I Pretend You’re Watching Me,” signifies a time in my life where I’m finally able to feel love and desire again, and it’s wonderful to do so after the last few traumatic years. However, as you can tell in the poem, it’s an impossible love, one that can never be realized due to many reasons. For the same reasons, it’s a safe love. It’s a poem about longing and fantasy, but it is rooted in the reality of our situation. The dream that he feels the same way, even though he’s unable to express it, keeps me going on some days. On others, it’s pure torment to be in such close proximity to him when my heart is bursting with love for him, when my hands are trembling with the urge to touch him. Just once.
Thus the line about having to soon say goodbye, for self preservation.
I hope some of you can relate to the poem, but I hope even more than your lives and hearts are filled with love and joy, the kind that can be openly reciprocated.
May you all find peace.