Wide Open

angels

It isn’t my place

No plan or hope for a connection that I wish to keep

My table seats few

The spirits poured of particular character and taste, the company never cheap

Arms wide open

I am not sure your ego has allowed you to remove your blinders and fully come to see

My wing span now

The simple reflection that I have set myself free

No longer do I stand to extend myself to you in trust and good faith

See my eyes, hear my lack of words

Your delusions of me have been neatly left at the door

My respect for you sharply stuck in my back and the reality

I was always just an acquaintance

Nothing more

~Alisa Hutton

Unfortunate Ways

door

Spirit

The seat of emotions and character; the soul

Did you hear it speak to you once

Delivered through my eyes, breathing love in to your own

Were you aware the extension was scary, did you know my heart trembled in fear

Vulnerability, not something I was fed from birth

Shame and anger more often near

Did you notice when I was brave and took a path I did not know

Was my warmth and sincerity felt

My thoughts and feelings; special should always be respected in truth and care

Did it make you feel as though you’d never stand alone

I walk away gently and with clarity as I close the door

The only sadness I carry with me is the cost I had to pay

I seemingly have lost my spirit

In the most unfortunate way

~Alisa Hutton

Empty

empty

There is a misconception that the deepest sadness we will feel in life

Is having to part ways and say goodbye

The loss of a knowing fill, the comfort of another and their warmth in our space

It is a fallacy and the matter at hand is larger you will see, possibly the very thing that will set you free

There comes a time when we see and feel, the most difficult reality to honor and embrace

Well beyond the drain and loss of any goodbye

Is the slow death of watching your spirit diminish and die

Life’s biggest challenge in what feels like human natures longest lesson

We feed our sadness in wish and hope and struggling to let go

But the only thing that matters in our wake and flow…..

It is only ourselves that we must trust and know

~Alisa Hutton

Sitting In Sorrow

bench

I can’t be the glue that binds your attachment to me

Your heart isn’t mine, I should be free

I can’t fill a void that you’ll always feel

My love is too raw and rooted in real

The safe thing to do; keep me in your pocket for days that feel hard and lacking in connection

The other thing to do; make a choice and walk in that direction

It doesn’t matter how much I say I loved you yesterday, today or tomorrow

I am always going to end up

Filling empty spaces while sitting in sorrow

~Alisa Hutton

My Ocean Died

ocean

Sipping from my waters

Once upon a time, a never-ending well

Poisoning the stream until it was no longer of good taste

Tossing toxins in the flow and discarding your waste

The water now dark and could care less about washing your soul or the changing tide

The ordinary day

My ocean died

~Alisa Hutton

Hanging Myself

rope

My purpose in life is not to fill yours

I didn’t accept an invitation at birth to sit in your empty spaces and listen to you rust and groan

The path you take, yours alone

I did not sign up by simply being born

Swallow the air you breathe, expand and contract with gentle flow or selfish anger as you must

Leave me be while I tend to my own

The discomfort you feel

Keep it off my shoulders and pack it away as you please

I wasn’t put on this Earth to spiritually flat line while being continually cut off at the knees

The house you built is not my home

I have shown up time and again, open and free, full of love

Intentions of hope

Hanging myself

By my own rope

~Alisa Hutton

Fork

fork two

Child,

Welcome to the fork in the road

Reduce speed and proceed with caution, adulthood ahead

Hard right-

Find your Neverland

Time and space allows you to see the good in all

Utopia will keep your light alive

You may gasp for fresh air and balanced surround

Fret not, you will learn what it is to live beyond survival

Don’t let your feet touch the ground

 

Hard left-

Share the air of the hate, grief and hurt exhaled in to your chest pocket, find your strength in the discord of distempered souls who lay your broken foundation

Let their anger give you life

Feast on others before they take their bites

You will breathe easy in cold surround and learn to die before any hope of life, no need to discuss survival

It implies care

Don’t let yourself get caught in that tempestuous snare

 

Two paths, one lesson

Simply left or a delusional right?

The safety of dim or excruciating light

~Alisa Hutton

Bottom

bottom2

The swallow of darkness

Grotesquely gorging on your good spirit like a rabid animal

Spitting out your zest for life effortlessly like that tooth you chipped when you were seven

You remember when you were seven, right?

That was when you learned how to tread water

It went something like this, keep moving, hurry up or you will sink to the bottom

So you learned to tread water

Don’t confuse it with floating, you learned that when you were around ten

I believe they yelled at you to lay on your back, relax and breathe or else you will sink to the bottom

So you learned to float

Sink or swim, do or die, don’t ask, just do

That is how is was

That is how it is

I remember that day when you did actually sink to the bottom, looking up through the clear waters at all the people who didn’t notice

Just a little person who was left alone but it came with such clarity

There was something peaceful about it, oddly assuring finally knowing how alone you were

Quiet and serene, finally something so calm and safe

You didn’t feel the panic of treading water or floating any longer

A funny little moment in time where it all stood still

Just you looking up from the bottom

As the swallow of darkness arrives, gorging as it does

Just like that day you sank and how you didn’t see it coming

You are reminded of those who didn’t notice you at the bottom, who never saw you sink

Maybe they never really cared if you did?

The same ones who gave ill advice on how to tread water and float

Funny

As all you ever really needed to know was that you were the only one who could feel what it was like to sit at the bottom

And

It is only you

Who gracefully knew how to rise back up to the top

~Alisa Hutton

Not Much

Not Much

She died inside

She didn’t feel a lot

Just a little more

She wasn’t sure how many times one could feel like this before “this” just was

Continually showing up for promptly closing doors

Only a child, she thought there was so much more

When do others see in her eyes what she can see in theirs?

At what point do they know that this one needs a little extra care?

Timing is everything

Unfortunately for her she has never worn a watch

When you ask her what she wishes for in life

She always smiles and says not much

Isn’t that irony of it all?

Exactly what she wished for

Is exactly what she got

~ Alisa Hutton

Fortune

moon

I sat under the moonlight this evening, the light lyrically illuminating  my open palm

Slowly tracing the lines on my hand I thought of how two things always seem to be

My love for you stirred in the middle of the night and these lines imprinted for fingers to read

With its graced charm the moonlight seemed to tap me awake in fresh quiet speak

Those lines I have, the ones I trace and the fortune teller reads

They are my fabric and forever me

But that love I carry quietly in the moonlight, that love for you that only I can see

Tonight the moonlight shining in its special way, touched those lines, my fabric, my forever me

Reminding my heart, simply

I must set it free

~Alisa Hutton