I haven't posted for so long. I think that I want to start again, maybe to keep track of my own progress. I have been in a depressed state for a time now and am doing some new things and thinking new thoughts to pull me out of it. I wrote this poem in the last two weeks, because of heartbreaking things going on in my family. My goal is to learn to be happy and have gratitude in spite of what's happening, because this is my life and always has been and is not going to go away.
My anguished cries ascend
then fall breaking into a
million pieces.
The shattered words
are shards of pain
each one causing
more sorrow, more suffering.
This journey's road so different
from the little girl's play
when I was always the mommy
and kept my babies safe.
I was a believer in fairy tales
and knew we'd live
happily ever after.
My story today has wandered
far from that happy path,
and the thought of giving up
always on the edge of
my consciousness.
I met another like me
our communication
elicited from broken hearts
and fractured souls.
She said that there
should be a hospital
for mothers.
Where we could go
when the pain
grew too big
over lost children.
This resonated . . .
What if they could open
me up and take out
the ache that never
goes away?
And splint the shattered
dreams and longings
once so whole -
so intact.
My wounds run deep.
Maybe a numbing IV
could give relief
for a moment.
Could they give me assurances
that I would recover
and everything
would would be allright?
Where is this place. . .
