Friday, February 21, 2014

The idea wouldn't leave my head...

I am running out of ways to-
                        to forget you
                        to forgive you
I am told
                 I should not do this
I am dreaming in quicksand.
In my own head it is not dark enough
is not cold enough and there
is a falling – Oh God, there is –
you took so much when you left from us
(you? god? I     don’t know which
There is this –.  I –.  I –.)
There is something I don’t have words for
can’t feel the seeing of, inseeing
                                      or out.
Sometimes, rare, I visit your grave.
I don’t know know who I am crying for.
I want to tell them, who offer happy drugs,
how much I hate you, that I forget
your eyes without photos, that
I don’t know what I am crying for.
I can’t forget how selfish you were &
I am here.                (People survive this.)
And you are not.     (People survive this.)
And I cant see how        I am empty
to be so full. I loved you, and you
took your life like I wasn’t enough
and all that is left, my child, is my hate.

1 comment:

  1. I also did a second version of this that ended with:

    and all that is left, O child, is my hat.

    .. since I realized removing the ending e would change the poem so much :)