Fear
Makes me deny hard truths
Only few know,
And I hide
To cover what I bare;
Regretful am I
Of this tendency
And where it leaves me here
Solitary;
I want to apologize,
For all the individual wrongs,
But I fear we’re past that now,
You have moved on,
But I am stuck
In 2022
Starting to pay for
My refusal to see
I was a problem;
It was never just someone
or something else;
But me;
My want for a fuller life
Together
Made me override,
Overrule,
Take the reigns
I had no right to hold alone;
And you knew me
When I could not see
Me for me;
Especially when I wasn’t being
Me;
I faulted you for saying
The things I did not want
To hear
And now I’m sitting here
Writing
About them,
Trying to figure out
How to climb out
Of this ocean of hurt
With waves that only tease
With a short relief of air;
I am sorry for everything,
You were right,
And now I’m not there;
No, I’m lost
Alone.
Tag: Loss
Best Friend
My heart knows love,
It once knew it was loved in return,
But then life threw daggers at each others hearts,
And confused the source:
The cause and reason,
Blame my illness,
And I blame yours;
Fault jobs,
And money,
Close quarters,
Distance,
And meddling,
Thus, so much has been laid bare,
Exposing the sinewy complicated beneath,
And the heal seemed impossible.
Until we separated,
Like angry children
Once best friends;
And life,
Through the child,
forces us back again,
And our differences and the past
Start to seem like a cruel illusion,
But the tears
And the hurt of separation is all too real,
Tangible in each trembling heartbeat,
I mourn the loss of my lover,
But I agonize over the loss of my best friend.
Healing
Healing is bittersweet,
It is hope with a tinge of pain,
The sting of loss,
Healing a heart is beautiful,
And sorrowful
With loss amidst the challenge
Of facing the unknown,
It is an escape room,
With the excitement from
The fear itself,
In a contained space,
The heart beats for what was,
The familiar,
And fears even the beauty of a fresh start,
Facing that conflict
is where the healing happens,
A heart is stitched together, bringing opposite sides together
Cry for what was,
But not for what could have been,
Because it wasn’t;
But there is a “will be”
On the horizon,
If you will let it come
To be.
Inspired By
This poem is not inspired by a tragedy,
It is inspired by lives that lived,
Albeit shorter than expected,
Lives that lived
With truth and love and conviction,
In innocence,
This is for their individual lives of uniqueness,
That inspire still
Even once their visible light
Goes unperceived
By human senses
Parting Pennsylvania
We traveled the roads
Traced the Appalachian to the end of the trail,
Found flat land in Ohio,
And wondered if we saw the edge of forever.
Turned back around to where my family is found
Pennsylvania:
forestry,
farmland,
mountains;
found,
The space I remembered,
With something missing.
Someone.
Felt the drop of my heart floor once more,
Knowing she is only partway here
Though her spirit everywhere,
And with him still
–Papa, in his recliner
Watching the great-grand kids play,
I brew and bring him Coffee
Cream, no sugar,
Little offerings,
Of thanks,
For everything that is,
Everything we are.
As I reach back in generations
I feel closeness to the Divine,
To the source,
Tears are all I have,
To praise and comfort
For we are live, and we are mortal.
As the morning broached;
Leaving,
The heaviness settles to the bottom of my heart,
I am smiling,
With tears in eyes,
Never knowing the finality of each time we part,
Knowing love,
And that must be enough.
Demand of the Divine
Night is falling in too soon,
Suddenly,
Too soon,
The wind abruptly lifted from our lungs as we watch,
And recognize,
Too soon,
The good and sweet we recall of you,
Knowing this is too soon,
For the life that is yours to be removed from ours,
Tears they fall,
Or tears they stall,
As disbelief sets in,
We look to the great beyond
Wondering what resides there,
For you,
For each of us,
Demanding why,
Of Spirit we still long to know,
Long to understand,
If there is a why in the divine,
And what that is,
We demand to know,
For why do the sweet, the young, the innocent, the good need to go,
And in unideal manners,
And why should and do the good die young,
This is penance for those who remain,
To watch as you go,
We cry,
As weeping bodies,
Our sacrificial gift for one we love,
You are slipping into the greater existence now,
in and around us
Joining with spirit,
We will mourn your corporeal existence,
But aim to know you on an entirely new plane,
Just as you will come to be,
May we know you more,
In memory,
Then we ever imagined of possibility.
She of Letters 