Walls Distinguished

Family is complicated, no?

I stare at Nehemiah's Wall upon my wall.
I take in the hopelessness and isolation
so beautifully disguised as a gift.
I have given up finding a way around it.

The shades of art pencil gray
filling up the frame remind me.
How does a wall so simple,
so neatly drawn feel so insurmountable?

There is a lack of color around me,
I realize, as I glance
at the blue on blue water-colored fishing boats.
Another present to remind me of your Presence.

I wonder silently if you named this work.

The abstraction you gave us before you went back to hell still hangs above my mantle.

It's almost just another fixture until I take it all in.
Familiar items in the periphery make it hard to forget.
I am surrounded by unspeakable things.
Funny how comforting they can be considering

I'll probably never see your faces again.
I wonder why sadness creeps in at the thought.
It isn't like our lives were repaired before you left.

I have to wonder if all these apologies
hanging throughout my home are sincere.
Is my grief your hobby?
Or is it something larger,
something exploitable.

I don't know

if I will ever be able to say

my walls are full.

Author's Note

Please excuse any grammer/spelling errors. I look forward to reading what you think.