You fell so low inside yourself
stripped of worth
stripped of will
stripped of dignity
You found me then and found your heart
beat in you
beat in I
beat in we
From tear-drenched sleeves to hopeful trails
The Decades they flew as our hearts did renew
forged by you
forged by I
forged by we
Such depth of love we’d scarcely believed
but to hear
but to feel
but to see
And now it’s all gone deathly still
And now you’ve gone so deathly still
Poetry has never been my thing. I’ve found my talents for mingling art and math lie almost entirely in building furniture and computer-generated art. But there’s something about being destroyed that tempts one to make beauty from pain.
To be honest I’d probably be better off just writing stream of consciousness fiction, letting the anguish spill out there on the page. But alas, the few attempts I’ve made have rendered nearly unreadable emotional spew, far too incoherent and dark to ever be a story on their own. Maybe someday I’ll go back and take those pieces of my heart out of the void that is my discarded projects folder, and fit them into something worthy of publishing.
100 days since the love of my life passed into whatever the next might be. I’ve not had many good days since; they’re too long and too cold for me.
I believe there’s a “next” because now I must. There’s no hope, no peace if there’s not. She’s still here, or so I choose to believe. I feel her touch quite a lot. She’s here with me now as I write of her loss, that touch I so hope is real. And sometimes at night when I lie all alone, it’s her hand on my heart that I feel.
I’m grateful for the love we shared, for the love we have even now. And the rich and vibrant life that we had still holds on to its vow. The sacred vow of forever love we made and renewed each day, it tugs, and it pulls, and it tears at my heart, and I pray never goes away.
The pain I feel, and I truly believe, is our love still holding fast. It’s the joy of that love that keeps me alive until it’s time to rejoin her at last.
In 100 days, some things that I’ve learned that I’d never wanted to know. Love is breath, love is life, love is all you should want, and love can lay you low.
If you have love, develop it more, nurture, tend, praise, and adore. Photograph it, the love in you two, every day, every hour, lest you lose. It’s the pain you’ll feel first, then the hollowness hits, something something rhymes with lose. Seriously though. Make videos of the two of you. Have others take your picture together. set up a security camera in the places you smooch most frequently, and record your lovemaking. I can promise you, these are things there won’t be enough of, and in 100 days you’ll have gone through them on endless loop, every photo, every video, every text, every message.
Be kind. Their heart is your responsibility. You should care for it more than you care for your own. And I can promise you, no matter how loving, caring, doting, and attentive you are, when they are gone you will second guess and amplify every harsh word, every thoughtless action, every time you did something for yourself… it will haunt you no matter how amazing you were; so it’s best to make as few of those moments as possible.
If you haven’t found soul-deep love where you care more for that person’s heart than your own and they you, get off your god damned ass and find it. work hard at it. Because, we all have a finite number of heartbeats in life and I can promise as you reach the end of yours, the absence of that richness will cause more grief than the loss of what you may have had. This I promise you.
You fell so low inside yourself