We Ran Out of West (w/ video)

Remembrances come flooding through calm pools
of still moments.
Disturbing the surface of my facade. In and out, they ebb and flow as they sweetly come and go.
Like memories of the waves lapping, cold and sharp at our feet.

The Pacific Ocean encroaching.
Slowly at first, but then verbose and–
Louder the memories ache to be heard!
And even when actively suppressing them, as they churn.

I held back as I watched you with adoration.
Dipping your toes in ocean with pure elation.
The moment I captured as consolation.

But the decibels of my heart were rising from a hummmmm to a tight scream.
I’m surprised that no one did see!

I had driven miles and miles across cold land.
Each mile closer, knowing you would slip from hand.
There were brief seconds when you did sleep
and my fingers trembled on the steering wheel,
unsure if the moment real, dreading the fate we would seal.
No hope for appeal. Stuck in my feels. This unsteady ship, it will keel.
Why is it my heart you did steal?

The waves come gentler sometimes.
Still icy cold, but kind.
Tying sailors knots in my mind, of instances intertwined.

I had taken my shoes off, one by one,
in order to ground me,
curling my toes beneath, soles sandy.

Methodical in my thinking. I had prepared this, having had an inkling.

I was hoping dearly that this moment would taste sweet like candy. All the life lessons I’ve had ’til now coming in handy.
Trying with every fiber not to let it bitter with tears,
of all my unrequited fears. Scanning the horizon for piers.

Anywhere to dock my shell. Quell this hell. Quiet this ocean. Quit this notion. Quick, here’s hopin!

Then you spoke.

Words cut the warm breeze. I noticed for the first time, my knees.
We were trembling, feelings assembling.

I was acutely aware that for you this was a joyous occasion.
My fear was an invasion.

Then you spoke.

My head was on your shoulder, I was looking to get closer.
My tears like the waves about to crest.

And you spoke.

You said, “we ran out of West”

And I knew a piece of you understood.
That my shaky knees were no good…at hiding.

That you could feel the sear inside me.
There were miles of road behind “we”.

It was an uphill battle I was climbing.
That all the while my body had been signing.
The coast had been calling you like a Siren!

I would try from that moment not be be a child and–

Still in my chest, I feel I am blessed.
Because maybe this budding love sees again that East meets West.

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About Amanda Pizzo

just a bird sharing her creative seeds.