Hauntings

who knew it had a name

a definition

                 a condition

This “Existential Crisis”

now that we realize the cause, what’s the elixir to exist… through it?

Is living with the effect like a terminal illness you endure until Death relieves you of the burden?

See how you’ve been

changed… by it

morphed into a stranger… by it

lived with the new rage simmering like hot soup burning mouth and tongue, keeping a constant fire searing your belly…by it

I’ve watched tolerance wane

Begged hope not vanish

Felt kindness measured out in even doses when once, long ago, the bottle was full for the taking…

Seen patience with the mis-truths of others skip like smooth stones glancing off the water to bottom at river’s edge..

Questioned what I know to be true in the denial of others deemed closest…

Once, I’d always stay, accepting blame…begging for scraps and inclusion at every table 

Now, doors slam and I slip away quietly without fanfare …or if hurt enough by perceived betrayals, bang pots and pans, bring in the steel drums, opening the word-valves,  relieving pain’s pressure

while the sharpest knives are kept at the ready to cut ties of friendships, I seek the stranger in the mirror, demanding that she be returned to me…to my world

a small skiff left by the wayside

Crashes into the rocks

Soon to be another sunken vessel

Weighing heavily into lapping waves

 

                 

 

About lindalou5150

as exercise or exorcism, i write...for the eyes of others, for my eyes and heart only, for the love and the rage, i write...to release the gamut of emotion...to tell the truth and say what's often thought but not written...
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