Easter 2013

As I sit here on this Easter Sunday, imagining the fun of seeing my grand-kids hunting for Easter eggs and playing with the cousins and I wish so much that I could be there.  Instead, I sit here at home and hope that someone will post pictures for me to see.  Just when I think I have it filed away all nice and tidy, no longer able to bring me to tears, the packaging bursts and my heart breaks just like it did on the first day that two of my daughters cut me from their life.  So I sit and write poetry and try to exorcise the demons that fill my chest and cause me pain.  So this is where I put it.  I hope it stays there this time and at the same time I know it won't.

Love Lost

How easy it seems to be, to cut someone from your life

Son or Daughter, Friend or Foe, Husband or Wife

For the one who makes the cut, the pain seems fleeting

But the person who is cut has a wound that’s never healing

Did my love mean so little that it was easy to keep at bay?

Was your love for me so shallow that it was easy to wipe away?

Your sentence of life without your love was effortless to pass

And there are many who would, quite simply, tell you to kiss their ass

I’m not that kind of person; I’ve never been that way

I will sit here mourning for your love for all of my days.

Part of me is angry because this was a surprise to me

 I’ve been shunned before and should have been able to see

The price for one poem is never to see my family again

Two of my daughters will not forgive the sin.

When a person’s been gone for a long interval

 Their memory fades away until it’s hardly visible

I’ve cut someone before so I know how it goes

In your mind you think it’s over but the anger still grows

You pretend you just don’t care but you know that’s not true

It’s just a clever way to build a wall between that person and you

So you can pretend I don’t exist and you don’t give a damn

But one day you may wonder, and if you do; here I am

I’m not interested in assigning blame because the issue is so old

It may take a while before the pain in my heart grows cold

I must be guarded, suspicious and protective of my heart

It must be carefully shielded so it isn’t ripped apart

Once my heart is broken it begins a disconnect

The hurt is just too great to bear so I have to protect

I long for family contact that I know may never come

Each day that passes without it, is one day closer to succumb

I fail to see the humor in things that used to make me laugh

I spend hours listening to music so I don’t have to interact

I’m so busy doing nothing that it takes up all my time

I pretend that I’m ok, but my light fails to shine

In a room full of people I feel unlovable and alone

People can’t understand why I prefer to be on my own

Some days I sit quietly and wonder with each breath

Would anyone feel sorrow upon hearing of my death?

My mind knows that there are and that’s the only thing that keeps

Me from swallowing a fistful of pills and taking the long deep sleep

The battle rages in me every day

Do I go or do I stay?

I never know the answer for any given day.

Kathy Wilson

November 1, 2012