I Breathe Grief

I breathe grief, I snort it like a coke addict

it lingers in the subliminal, it screams in the subconscious

days like these, are 'that kind of crazy'

that ugsome gut wrenching tug of diesel engines

the flashing recollection of clarity's vengeance

vehemently churning up inferno's angst and fury

racing through the mind stained black

clueless unedited timing of remembrances

smacking up the back of head and mind

never letting solace or sleep too near

in the convoluted recesses nothing lies dormant

screeching halt of life and no one see's the truth

hanging in the balance an unsolved resolution

contention captured and kept jailed for next edition

Author's Note

It seems the days that should be the best, ultimately end up being nothing more than a constant, nagging reminder of what once was and the pain and guilt behind it.

Reviews

[DrD]

I think your writing is largely therapeutic when dealing with these themes and I can only respect that. As always, you capture the biproducts of abuse and present them to the point that we almost feel them with you. I hope you can reach the point that your days are constant with happiness and with the recognition of who you are now. I appreciate your poetic skill but I appreciate you even more as a person.

[Frieda P]

You hold a special place in my heart doc, thank you so much.

[Dream Weaver]

A merry-go-round of emotional wreckage seemingly taunting ones inability
to stabilize. Love the concept here, nicely done...

[Frieda P]

Thanks Dream Weaver, much appreciated.

[Corset]

yes, this expresses perfectly everything dark in guilt, grief and depression and how it can raise it's ugly head if it's not dealt with properly, must take care of yourself, especially during holiday season, can be so hard on those of us who have lost so much.

[Frieda P]

Thanks Corset, hope you had the happiest of holidays.

[kublakhan27]

I seldom tell a writer that I know how they feel when they wrote a particular piece, but this was my first Christmas without Dad, and everything just felt crooked...the last two days have just been a prolonged mood swing, trying to be mindful of the positives but failing to gain a firm grasp of them...I know the circumstances are extremely different but the sense of loss is unavoidable in any event...the last two lines are brilliant...I wish you the best...

[Frieda P]

I'm so sorry for your loss k, holidays are so difficult in the aftermath. Thanks for your kind word.

[kublakhan27]

Thank you Frieda and you know I'm equally sorry for yours...thankfully we still have family and friends who remain to keep the positive memories intact :)

[kelvin]

darkness at times tends to haunt us even at our best, even when taking some type of meds to help shave it yet at some point the darkness sometimes makes you relapse as it nags and picks at you. Keep writing fellow even though its hard

[Frieda P]

Thanks for taking the time to read me kelvin.

[kelvin]

You're very welcome

[KeeD]

Stay awake remembering all the realistic nightmares that haunt you, its like having a nightmare before you can even shut your eyes. Impossible to forget, no matter how hard we try, we lock these memories somewhere deep within us, put on a face and live life normally.. but they always find a way to creep out, specially when we're most at peace. Great write Miss Freidalicious < 3, a life long fan of your work.

[Frieda P]

You are wise beyond your years my friend, always a pleasure Kee, truly. x

[Deron Alexis]

very well captured the comparisons are very effective this is talented writing well done

[Frieda P]

Much appreciated Deron.

[quinfinn]

i love the way you have captured this pandemic, people need to reflect on holidays such as this, but reflection stirs all memories and never are they all good ones. cleverly worded and beautifully executed write!

[Frieda P]

I know I'm not the only one that suffers through the holidays, thanks so much for your insightful review quinn x

[Baby Ricochet]

The other day I was driving through the home depot parking lot when a mexan with a thick mustache talking on a cell phone walked out from behind a truck. My pulse instantly doubled with my breathing as taradactles clawed at my stomach sending me into panic over load. I parked my truck and sat there for about ten minutes until I had calmed down enough to go into the store.
In Iraq men on cell phones were often spotters for snipers, mortar crews, ambushes, intelligence gathering on our position strength and movements. The locals knew this so mostly they stayed off their cell phones in public. They also knew we would likely detain them if we caught them talking on one. Those kind of memories leave a mark that never fades. This is my favorite poem I've read of yours because it speaks to me in a deeply personal way that most poems on the wc don't do. Thank you frieda and godspeed.

[Coyote Poetry]

A lot of folks don't enjoy the holiday. I must work extra days and I do my best to keep positive for the kids. Sometime holiday can bring back sadness. I use the holiday to remember my love one's missed. Thank you for sharing the excellent poem.
Coyote

[AYVID N]

this is so true...it happens so much all around us...you told it so well here!