Midnight Wanderings
8:59 PM Edit This 4 Comments »
I dance along at midnight. Only it's not midnight in time, but midnight in my soul.
I let him go and there's an empty space that gapes wider than I wish.I don't bleed anymore. It just festers with time. Black bile grows and gets spewed given the right pressure. I want to mark my body for him to say that he existed and is now gone. Only I can't find the right symbol to mark him by. Pain. Sure. Agony, yes in pleasure and in pain. If there was a symbol for eternal angst I'd do it in a heartbeat, but there's not. And why do I pain myself so after him? He shot my soul through. I remember going into his brother in law's garage to find every imaginable gun. I think I screamed. I think I was afraid. And now, it seems so okay.
So damn lucky you went on ahead.
He knows me. He knows that I am coming. Sooner or later. For his soul.He can't live except in my memory. And I can choose the memory. The good one, the bad one, the pain, the pure hatred of where we were. I don't want him to know how difficult this is - to put a measure on our life together. If I do, I limit what could have been. If I don't, I continue to be sucked into the sickness of us.
Never have to bury your own babies.
Our babies are gone, Jay. Gone. The one that could have been and the ones that will never be. Let me be. Set your ghost at rest. Leave me be. I will do what has to be done. Fix it so there is no question. Leave me be. Let me go.
I let him go and there's an empty space that gapes wider than I wish.I don't bleed anymore. It just festers with time. Black bile grows and gets spewed given the right pressure. I want to mark my body for him to say that he existed and is now gone. Only I can't find the right symbol to mark him by. Pain. Sure. Agony, yes in pleasure and in pain. If there was a symbol for eternal angst I'd do it in a heartbeat, but there's not. And why do I pain myself so after him? He shot my soul through. I remember going into his brother in law's garage to find every imaginable gun. I think I screamed. I think I was afraid. And now, it seems so okay.
So damn lucky you went on ahead.
He knows me. He knows that I am coming. Sooner or later. For his soul.He can't live except in my memory. And I can choose the memory. The good one, the bad one, the pain, the pure hatred of where we were. I don't want him to know how difficult this is - to put a measure on our life together. If I do, I limit what could have been. If I don't, I continue to be sucked into the sickness of us.
Never have to bury your own babies.
Our babies are gone, Jay. Gone. The one that could have been and the ones that will never be. Let me be. Set your ghost at rest. Leave me be. I will do what has to be done. Fix it so there is no question. Leave me be. Let me go.
4 comments:
OH Kate. I wish I could hug you.
Fighting for your sobriety at the same time as mourning a loved one must be a terrible burden at times. Hang in there. There are plenty of people cheering you on.
Break my heart... Our memories turn against us at times, remembering the good that way and glossing over the bad. The good anchors itself in our heart and threatens to take over our present until we have nothing. You fight against that every day, Kate. Sometimes you may lose a battle, but you are winning the war. Remember that.
i wish i could say something that would help. you're amazing. i can't imagine going through all you have been through. it breaks my heart. over and over.
Post a Comment