How many times must I face you
in the canyons of my mind?
Enough so that when I see you
the pain dissolves into a fine mist
that coats me in life’s replenishment.
I am whole, unfinished, still learning.
I am no longer held in the embrace
of an emotional fiend when I think of you.
Sometimes I remember you fondly,
other times I cringe at my unseeing eyes.
How did I ever find your voice so important,
so necessary to my life?
Why was your visage so desired
when it caused so much despair?
I no long envy the woman at your side,
I merely pity her.
You come to the forefront once more,
and in the quiet fog-like appearance of my dreams,
I merely smile and walk away.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017