So I visit you again, my old friend.

The one that brought me to life, stirred my passionate self

and planted a paradise on my heart’s shelf.

I see you sitting here in my bed,  as you did once long ago,

offering me a promise with a smile, a twinkle in your eye and a ring in your hand.

My heart quivered never before to have felt such

an inside melting and explosion all at once,

to which later became a reminder of  things repeatedly broken.

Slam.. the glass and shattering.

Fast on the skull – a fist to send my head reeling.

Over and above – you tossed me round and pinned me down,

hands scrambling to confuse and grab my face as I bat the arms that try to restrain me. Over and over I do love you.. over and over you come at me with a twist and a bite,

a kick and a pillow to smother me. 

My heart beats fast and I just try to survive the moment til the storm subsides.

“Oh why?” I asked inside.  What could I do when the tornado hit?

I clicked my red heels to go home, but I don’t visit Kansas anymore. 

I left the shock and awe for some other Dorothy to someday take on.

But inside the flashbacks come on occasion. 

And somehow despite it all I find myself reaching out for a stolen dream,

like the child that didn’t see it coming and still needs to feel he, or she, was loved.

I too wait at the gate of wounds that reawaken – a bittersweet collection of moments,

a kneeling looking up through the beam of light through which I first saw you.