Not This

not this

Waiting for the message that is rarely returned

I hear not this

My heart wanting  you to see me

I hear not this

The flowers I deliver put aside

I hear not this

Thoughtful gestures disregarded as simple expectation

I hear not this

Questions about me that are never asked

I hear not this

The how are you that is never spoken

I hear not this

Poems written that are accepted with a shrug and hey thanks

I hear not this

Constant wonder would she notice if I was missing

I hear not this

The most basic human decency seemingly absent

I hear not this

When the day comes

When the silence allows insight

When the quiet brings you back to your heart

When your eyes open

When you feel I am gone

I felt the worth of my heart and it was

Not this.

~Alisa Hutton

Kintsugi

kintsugi2.jpg

Did my personal harmony echo spirit back in to your life?

Good faith and hope intoned in to the empty spaces in your soul

I, your Kintsugi?

Human gold accepted and poured to fill your broken past

Do you feel more valuable now?

Do you see your worth?

Or is the tap on my reality that this was just another scratch on our record?

Skipping on repeat that part of the song that attempts to drain mine

The space I long ago invited you to visit has always remained the same

Uncomplicated, genuine, loving and kind

The only difference I can see, my values no longer left at the curb

To hold your hand for the ones you’ll never find

~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

Glass Jar

Glass Jar

I put you in a glass jar tucking you away on my deepest shelf

My reason?

Curiously, to keep me safe and my best memories warm

I peered in every so often to check and see if you were still present and well adored

A dangerous balance

Close and an arm’s length away

The jar gave me what I needed

Reflective of what life had taught me at the time

Space and a soundless reminder of who I am

Values that reside steady and strong as much as they will long

What I didn’t understand

The jar that kept you deep inside my heart

What I didn’t quite see

Was that I simply needed

To set you free

~Alisa Hutton

Shallow Waters

 

shallowwater2

Inhaling sadness

Exhaling only to make room for more

Laying still in her shallow waters

Lapping tides remind her she has felt the wash before

Blinking once

A familiar passerby walks around her, not to lose path of their own linear destination

Blinking twice

A second familiar passerby walks over her, not to interrupt their better path of linear destination

She closes her eyes only to be awoken by those lost on the belief of linear destination

Exhaling she makes room for more

Circular upwards, a lesson we all eventually learn

Like leaves blowing in the wind

She leaves them to lay alone in their destined shallow waters

~Alisa Hutton

Now

seed

As the winter air bit at her cheeks in her forest of thoughts

Her heart weighted, indulging in sadness

A past heavy in disappointment

Her future never arriving between blinks

She gave herself permission

You may

Close the gap of your expectations now

Family looks as it feels

Not what was fictionally written

Home is not made of carefully placed cushions or well-appointed rugs

She was not “them”, “she” or “her”

She was “I “

“I” knew happiness was to be felt, not chased

“I” felt love for people, not things

“I” knew time was welth, not income

“I” gave permission

To let “them” be the holder of expectations

“I” will live a beautiful life

~Alisa Hutton