The Meet

Waiting for  you,
Window watching.
Silent prayers
Muttered into coffee cups.

You know everything,
Already.
So I wonder why the meeting?
And I run through my head
The million things I need to say.

"I get it,
I mean I know.
Why I'm here,
Why you made it this way,
I know."

Silent tears.
How do I tell you,
That I'm getting lost in the way?
It was easier before,
To be me, to be right.
 But I know it's not enough.

Now I've walked a million miles
In the shoes of the broken, the faithless,
the lost, and the guilty.
I've walked a cross
Bleeding my way through a crowd
That thought me once a saint.

Fear grips my heart to think,
I'll never make my way back to you.
That this darkness, will persevere
That the empty, that the blind,
That I'll die here.

And I've seen your hand walk me through
You've seen it all,
You know it wall,
So why the meet?

 I pause my stuttered fast sentences,
Waiting for my sentence from your lips
How much longer? Is there any other way?

No words, His hands extended
Scars that answered, "No."
Scars that replied, "You can never value anything, unless it costs you something."
Scars that cried, "You can never know love until you've walked their cross, in their own shoes."
Scars that comforted, "To win, you first must lose."

-Noemi E. Garcia Rigsby