That’s all anyone can do, really. And hope the days like today become less frequent.
It wasn’t a good day at all, today. I have been overwhelmingly sad. That is the feeling. Not depressed as such…this was a very definite, acute sadness.
Sad for what has been lost, mainly. Nothing is ever straightforward, is it? Never plain and simple. Never just one thing….or another. No. As humans, and especially where relationships are concerned, it’s messy. And tangled. And complicated.
As easy as it is to hate, it is as easy for the memories of love to flood in.
Unbidden and unwelcome.
A flood that sweeps right through
To the innermost core of you.
Sweeping away the logic and leaving you drenched…
Soaked….in the past.
And terrible, terrible sadness.
It was my hurting heart that
Floated free-est today.
My snapshots spread out across the
Dark pool of pain.
Hours and hours and hours of them.
Replayed, re-lived and rebounding Off the sides of the abyss
While my tears fell like rain.
Every now and then snagged on the
Sharpness of betrayal…
And mental hell would all break Loose – as though in defence.
Fury would boil with images of Retribution.
Hurt inflicted for hurt inflicted.
I need not stoop so low.
But it helps the fury to cool again.
In a little over a month
Such huge losses.
Betrayal on both sides of me….
From long into the past, also.
As well as from now.
One potential future or many…
It makes no odds.
Those futures are gone now
As the tide has turned.
I wish I could be a beach washed clean.
Smooth, shimmering in the moon’s Soft glow.
Soothing sussurations in reach of my ears.
But its not to be.
Instead, it is….
Grief upon grief upon grief.
Well, that wasn’t intended as a poem. But that’s what it turned out to be. As rough and ready as it might be *shrugs*
I like it.
Ha! I’ve used similar words before, not so long ago. Except I feel my stomach churn in disgust now that I am reminded.
I am also reminded of another pattern that appeared, just as all this began. Next time…..if there ever is a next time….I shall avoid all such patterns. And listen, when my gut tells me its broken.