Camp was good. Life has been busy since then so I’m behind. Maybe eventually there’ll be a post here about camp, but maybe not. I make no promises. Anyhow, for now, here are two poems that I had written before camp, but hadn’t had a chance to put up. The first is based on experience, the second is an elaboration on this Pinterest quote about an oxymoron we moronic humans often live.
I miss you every day,
Both in ways I know and can’t explain.
Remember when you said
No one cared,
That the world would be better off without you here?
You were wrong.
You took your life (relatively) long
And I know
That my grieving will never end.
The world’s a darker place without you, and
I know reliving choices…regret,
I know regret won’t help me get
You’re in Haven or Hell,
That’s at least partly my responsibility
I can’t help feeling your choice was affected by disability.
It’d be fine
If we could switch eternal destinations,
Your past versus mine…
But, much to my frustration,
Things don’t work that way.
Everyone pays for his deeds.
Did you help him see at the last instant?
Handle life with a smile as I used to.
People ask if I’m ok. Do
I need someone to talk to?
But talking doesn’t help me get over you.
I hate depression like some people hate cancer.
As with that there is no answer,
I watch depression’s vicious cycle take more
Into its grip.
I watch as they slip
Beyond where I can reach,
And I die a little more each
Not all truths rhyme:
I’m beginning to think there’s nothing I could change even if I could rewind.
So I’ll drink another draught from the cup of sorrow,
Sleep, awake, and face tomorrow.
And she wished upon a dream
That her secrets would be seen
For what they were by some wild, keen
And that he would excavate her soul
Unearthing pieces, sketching a whole
Portrait of her true person
He heart in the nude, un-shrouded from role
And in her fervent prayers and fears
She hoped his heart would ever steer
Closer to the truth of her feral, rearing self.
That someone be less afraid of
Her ugliness than she.
That man-child, made of tender persistence
Could see in her beauty…
Mine her depths,
Find something to cherish
In the wreck,
Fight and not perish
Against inner battlements she’d set up.
That he might, somehow, fall in love.
I tend to like the first one better. I’d love to know your thoughts and/or critiques!