Tag Archives: despair

Sadness Wins

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Lost. Alone.
Caught in a story.
Rock bottom.
Struggling.
Afraid.
Hungry.
Exhausted.
I tried for a year to believe.
A year came and went
and I’m still struggling.
How do I keep believing
in a chance for better days?
I always want to find resolve
with my words.
I always want to end these poems
on some kind of inspiring note,
some kind of opening into greater things.
Tonight, I don’t have it in me.
Tonight, the sadness wins.

I Need to Be Patient

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I need to be patient with this process.
I was in the victim story
for a lot longer than the story
of my empowerment.
I believed he shouldn’t have left me
for a lot longer than I realized he should.
My pain is older than the loss of this marriage,
my abandonment, my grief, my heartache
much older than that moment
one year and one month ago
when he dropped the bomb
on the life I thought I knew.
And he is gone.
He has been gone for a while,
and he won’t be coming back.
And so now it is my task
to turn toward myself
and sit with the aching little girl
who clamors for my attention.
She cries out in anger and despair
because I haven’t been there for her,
so taken was I
with the telling of my sad, sad story.
I need to be patient with this process.
Taking ownership of one’s pain
is something that many people
will never realize they can do
let alone go ahead and do
once they realize they can.
I am making this choice.
I feel alone in it.
But that’s just because
no one I know personally
has made such a choice before.
Surely, though,
there are beloveds out there,
kindreds, who just like me
want to evolve until the day they die,
sweethearts who want to own their pain
so that they have the space,
the depth
and the presence
to own their joy.

About to Jump

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I’m too depressed to sit at my computer,
so here I am on my phone.
I’m tired, lonely, feeling sick,
questioning my will to live.
It is a dark time.
I go through a mental list of people I know
wondering who might be able to talk,
and then I write everyone off:
Too busy
They haven’t been there
I told them what I was going through
and they distanced themselves.
They wouldn’t want to hear
about my life anyway.

So I feel utterly isolated
in the cold, dark and lonely
wishing I could die.
Meanwhile
My children are playing
in the other room.
The truth is
I hate myself and my life right now
and it feels like it will always be this way.
I’m standing on a ledge in my mind,
about to jump.

Please Let There Be a Reason

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Bottomless grief.
Falling further than I thought possible.
Endless tears,
crying over any little thing.
Then the numbness,
the emptiness,
a state of motionless,
all-consuming despair.
Could this experience
be carving into me
greater depth,
a more profound understanding
of the suffering of the world?
Please let there be some reason for this.