The Worst Kind of Pain.
Something missing from this one...going to keep working on it. I think it's because I'm still not sure of what happens at the end, the same way that I'm not sure about what's happening in my life now.
It hurts when you are waiting
For something
anything
to clarify the reason
of your panicking.
The end point is less frightening—
Whatever it may be
Because it’s not the worst kind of pain
That your heart will feel.
No
What hurts is trembling,
quivering with fear;
Holding on with every breath
That you have to spare.
The suspense is murderous
Eating you away;
Pushing further your distress
Every night and day.
Some days you feel like screaming—
A volcano ready to erupt.
Other times you feel so weak
and peaceful—
A tranquility that no person can destruct.
Yes, all that’s left is waiting
Eternal
endless days;
Trapped in a cocoon.
And everything around you —
in a grayish haze.
No, men in white coats
Cannot soothe you now
Can’t offer consolation,
no!
Can’t wipe away that frown.
There are no rules
No guides
no books
To help you deal with life.
No manual on how to cope
On losing someone close.
But you desperately cling to them
as though they truly are
the only life source left on Earth.
When,
ironically,
you know they are dying.
(2012)
Going to keep updating this...not quite there yet with this one.
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