A Path Lined to the Inevitable

It overwhelmingly smells like flowers
and maybe for this reason
the scent of flowers never seems so sweet.

My heart is racing
I’ve been here before
and my stomach turns.

This room
with old fashioned carpets
lining the path to the inevitable
filled with welcomes from men in suits
that look of pity
compassion
and routine
and all I can think is…

“how do I escape this”
do I turn around?

No,
because
there is no escape.

I enter the room
knees weak
heart broken

and I see your face
but not in the same way
you’re cold
preserved
and absent
and I go cold
desperate
with an unwillingness
to accept.

Instead
I settle for the embrace
that will come next
from family
friends
loved ones
and strangers
but not you,
all filled with compassion
but I can’t hear them.

I am here but you aren’t
I am here but I’m not

The room shrinks a bit
and the hours begin to blur
this room becomes all too familiar
in this moment
and in the future

We fast forward
a few months later
and this time passed
has not yet
served to heal
yet we reenter the room
the carpeted path
the routine welcomes
now to see her face
cold
preserved
and absent
a woman
who couldn’t face a life
without you.

Your Grip Bringing Us to Now

She sat quietly now.
Lyrics background to her thoughts.

Now –
It once seemed so distant

That day in the park
we ran parallel.
The gentle sound
of water meeting the rocks edge
unrecognizable chatter
of those walking by
and your words
confronted by fear,
mine.

I was translucent
to you
and somehow
you held on,
your grip
bringing us to now.

She Finds Herself

She finds herself
here again
desperate
face down on the cold floor

She is alone now
unclothed
tattered
and sore.

She wonders,
through clouded vision
how she got here.

Skin and bones
neglected and fragile
this same fragility
he feeds on.

She is searching
for the light

clawing
gripping
reaching

But she is too weak
to reach it
before her time
is up.

The Stages of Life

The clock ticks by
and we rarely notice.
It is one of those things
that just happens
with no awareness
to the mind.

It’s just another night
passing the time
and the phone rings.
It’s late
and I answer
anxiously
knowing.

The moment,
those words…
it has happened
and the anticipation
and the potential
can’t compare.

Loss
The overwhelming ache
of missing.

Denial
Sometimes I wait
for you
I expect to see you.
Sometimes I forget
and that’s the worst part.

Anger
I can’t understand
why so many lives
are taken from us.
We don’t deserve
to be stalked
by this dark cloud
steady precipitation.

Depression
Small things
trigger suppressed
memories.

There are
those instances
of realization
your absence
from the big moments
in my life, our lives
yet to come.
The instance
of realization
that this is actually
the worst part.

Acceptance
I have become
more aware of
the clock
it’s ticks.

Real loss is
always
prevalent
yet so is presence.

Isn’t it funny how
we will always tell your jokes
carry on your traditions
and attempt to fill your shoes
even though we claimed to
“dislike” them
when you were here?

Acceptance is not
forgetting
it is not
happiness
it is simply
understanding.