the loss of poetry in our lives and other seemingly meaningless meanderings

So much of my life has been spent hurting.

From the words spat through bitter lips, and hands that stung against my skin. I hurt as a child. And then I hurt growing up. From feeling less than adequate. I was different, I was ugly, I was boring, I was scared. I hurt from the way people treated me, and from the way they didn't treat me.

Then I grew up, and I hurt from loving. I felt the pain of giving oneself to another, and having them tear you slowly apart. I felt heartpains unlike I had every known. Parts of me died.

And I hurt every day. I hurt from thinking. I hurt from wondering WHAT IF. I hurt from feeling confused, and always so alone. My thoughts are different. My feelings are different. I barely stay breathing in this world where priorities are shifted and love is a rare commodity. Poetry is dead. And with it's loss, I die, too. I occasionally glance it in a book or a movie of rare quality, or a smile in a lover's eyes. But poetry is gone, and the earth is bleeding from the goodbye.

And I can't stop crying because I have lost communication with my heart.

We do things. We lose things. We find things. We throw things away. I'm scrambling on the floor trying to sweep the dust under the bed, and I'm coming up dirty. I clean it all away only to cover myself in tears. The salt is seeping into my skin. I'm screaming inside from the pain of it covering my wounds.

Those rare moments where I felt joy. I have lost them. I barely believe they ever did exist. They were figments of my imagination, which has long since atrophied and faded away.

I am swimming in emotions undeserving of such attention. The optimistic sprite living inside my head is telling me to shut up and plaster on a smile and move the f**k on. Get over yourself. There are people dying.

And instead of snapping out of it, I find myself jealous.

How morbid. How stupid. How selfish, you say.

I say it, too, but the thoughts refuse to go away.

I have felt this pain for the entirety of my life. It ebbs and it flows, but no,

it never goes.

I sigh and I flutter my eyelids and I fall. I'm tired and I only want a moment's respite. Some time to rally, some time to sally forth.

Into the future. Away from this pain. I will rest and I will recover,

and I'll be happy again.

 

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Oh hon I have just felt the years of pain and frustration in just those few moments of reading this... it's crazy life where hurt comes in many forms and in every stage of our lives, yes it is hard sometimes to recall the good things when our life is in turmoil, and though we know there are people worse off it doesn't ease our pain. I must say all these feelings you described i have felt at some point in my life and sure i will again...

Just know you are not alone in your feelings.

[Nicholas Hallows]

I can relate to this all too well. Which means I like it.
Strange how so many people seem to share these feelings yet feel so isolated.

[Taja B.]

This prose displays so much desolation, but it is so genuine expressed and well written. It is so full of pain and internal conflict, and it's relatable because I'm sure everyone has been through times when they felt like s**t from time to time. However, due to this moving, beautiful and heartfelt prose, I disagree that you lost your ability of writing poetry.

Thanks for sharing.

[T. F. Rice]

This is good, very good. You simply must be published in The Other Herald. Your writing is so much of what we are about... feeding the writer (of poetry and everything else)... Thank you for sharing this with us. Be well, TFRice

[Jonathan Weiss]

Hello dear Kara. I have not read you for awhile...but if these words are indeed true, then I will keep you close in prayer. Rest in the surety of change.......what is difficult today may be easier to bear on another day. God has made us, and wants only happiness for us...remember that and affirm it to yourself.

One quote that always gives me a fresh perspective is........"God loves you, his child, as much as he loves Jesus." (Brother Anandamoy.)
That may be hard to imagine........but we all arise from Him.........all of us.

[Legion]

:( Read my poem "When Stagnate" and contemplate it. Hope it helps.

[Le' Pugh']

A beautiful girl, A beautiful poet... A beautiful heart.

The poet is not gone as long as the words flow and as long as you can produce the emotional work you have here.
So much of being a poet is sharing our hearts and you have never been at a lack for doing that.

Bear (Gordon)

[Gordon Greene]

I miss the poet... but more than that, I miss the friend.

Gordon