Troll under the Bridge

Those times you lay on the couch and I on the love seat and our hands would touch and we left them that way because we wanted to.
I thought you'd always be there for the rest of my life.
I didn't know I had more time than you.
The sand in my car there weeks after,
Simpsons every night,
Sundance films,
I'd slap your face even though I knew you'd hit me harder,
It still felt pretty good to slap you.
Jokes always, even not funny ones,
Grey flannel and Polo,
Edisto Island, always Edisto.
Signing that petition like it mattered.
Peaches and boiled peanuts.
I knew you'd never be the same...
Suddenly I allow myself to remember the good things that were overshadowed by your devastation path before.
I forgot so I could survive and now I remember...
Like a troll in my head that only comes out when the town stops trying to crucify him.
That troll is out.
He sits on his bridge and weeps and mumbles
all the things that were good about us.

Joy

Sometimes I just want to be Joy,
not momma,
not the negotiator between brother/sister,
the deciding choice between Wendy's or Mcdonalds,
not bathroom scrubber,
nor laundry doer
nor taxi driver
nor bed maker

I want to be where someone can enjoy my presence
my voice
my thoughts
my laughter
I want to lay down with someone who just wants to be next to me
not for sex
not for safety from nightmares

Somedays Joy is never there
all day long
Somedays I get time with her
just minutes
Somedays I need to see her
and I don't
Somedays I get her
and don't need her
Somedays it flows
perfectly
This summer I have craved Joy