Poems and prose about mortality, fragility, cancer, humanity, love & life. It’s not escapism but reality or the reality of a moment
It was you all along
Just couldn’t see the
forest through the trees
Mind got angry
Heart only ever
wanted to please
The love of my life
gone and now my heart
just yearns to appease
We never lost the love truly
Just went through some unease
Needed to figure things out
Align the timing, our needs.
If we ever met again I know life would
let me breathe
Still feel the hurt from when I had to
watch you leave
And for now, I grieve
32 years since I’ve seen your face, since I’ve held your hands or heard your voice. 32 years of longing.
I still remember the twang of electric pain shoot through my body and throat as I heard those words… “he died last night”.
The stillness was deafening, the finality I want to say overwhelming as I slammed the phone down, but so much more than this. I still haven’t found the words, in 32 years of longing.
You were always my safe haven, the ear to listen and the shoulder to cry on. You were my whole world, until my world was swiftly taken.
32 years of longing, and I have still never found respite. Still searching for you in every face, in every day that goes by.
32 years of longing even though my child mind is now grown. 32 years foreboding, waiting for another foot to fall, perhaps my own.
32 years, thiiiirty twoooo yeaaaars, I’ve been longer without than ever with. The moment you left us was the moment I wished to leave too. I knew I’d never find such love again, I just knew.
And 32 years has proven me right. Time and time again. My heart still aches my tears still wet, as I try hold on through the fear.
32 years. 32 years.
Sometimes I wonder if he hated me only because I saw behind his mask. I saw the vulnerable sensitive parts of him and I was still OK with that. I loved those parts. I just wanted him to love them too.
He wanted me to fall in love only with his own delusions of what he wished he could be. He wanted fantasy over truth. But the truth was much more powerful and beautiful than any fantasy ever could be.
He was more than he believed, yet he could not allow himself out in the light for fear of being seen. What he didn’t realise was he was making himself less than, not more. I hope one day he finds his way home, into open arms.
When you love someone but they can’t meet you, or maybe you can’t meet them where they need to be met. It’s one of the most frustrating, heartbreaking & sad human experiences to be had. All the wonderful potential just stagnant and waiting idle, treading water and holding one’s breath. You just wish for a miracle and for things to be returned not just temporarily but consistently and without measure. But all that happens instead is maladaptive coping tactics that try to hide the shame and anxiety of not feeling enough, or the confusion of not knowing what to feel, a push and pull game occurs. Love can be such an elusive thing in an age where people only wish to share highlight reels. But love is no game, yet many are merely players.
JaxTrax 