Dear Tom

Dear Tom If I had the courage to speak from the heart Ladybirds of redness would sing from It. I imagined my pain was of your making But it was only the making of life. Now I'm alive like a ladybug. Still small but making my way bravely Forward and backward and forward again. Now more smoothly and flying at times. Dear Tom If I could speak from my heart I'd say Nails have been stuck in my chest After you left. I cared about each one of your steps I could not witness you make. It was the kind of loving I wanted for myself. Dear Tom. Your silence is empty like a heart that's Been shut - But I give myself to it and I'm full of it Now. I call things for what they are Too. Do you hear ? Cause shying away from the heart Keeps it shut. Dear Tom I imagined you could be my home but This was my bad. Like I could have owned your being and Fill it with mine. That's not loving, that's owning. Colonising. I retract. Dear Tom, I honour your spirit. May it be freer and freer With each day like a ladybug That flies it's own Own Own way.