This is another poem I wrote in response to a prompt. This time, it was to write about the sad moments in life. Needless to say, I could relate to this one.
It doesn’t matter how long you’re waiting for
the inevitable to crash through your life,
when it does, you aren’t prepared—
how can you be?—
how can anyone steady their resolve enough
to be ready to lose their loved one’s love
The thing nobody ever admits is
when parents say they will always be there for you,
one day (maybe not so far away)
they will die and you
will crumple and watch—helpless—as
parts of you break off and float away,
and you won’t know how to put yourself
and you question if you even want to.
The world—always scary—
becomes a place in which you inhabit the periphery,
perching as far away from others as possible,
waiting to fall into the depths,
from where there is no going back.
But who cares?
The well-meaning people
(who have so much wisdom you want to
scream at them to
tell you time heals,
and to remember the good times,
but don’t they know it’s the good times that are killing you?
Without the laughter and love and memories of
that video your Dad searched everywhere to find
when you were ill and he just wanted you to smile,
getting over it would be so much easier.
I’m not sure about the “loved and lost” theory,
I never could figure why pain is better than
Still, I love,
and with all my heart.
How fracked up is that?