In solitude,
I find myself.
In the company of others,
I fall apart
Slowly.
He was strong,
Brave,
He was intelligent.
He was everything and anything
That I ever wanted to
Be.
But he had scars
That only
He could see.
The scars festered
And became infected.
They bled profusely
Until one day,
He bled out.
In solitude,
I listen to old records that remind me of him.
In the company of others,
My mind plays sad songs that make no sense
And I look at his photograph
That rests
On my desk.
There was always something so elegant
About a black and white photograph.
The pictures spoke more to me
Than the memories.
Because the pictures could lie.
In solitude,
I begin to understand things better than I did before.
In the company of others,
I'm still falling apart just as much as I was when I had
Some place to go.
YOU ARE READING
A Delicate Void
PoetryA collection of poems, short stories, and thoughts (c) BreatheForMeBabe 2013. I gave you a shred of my soul. The edges, soaked in blood, cloaked in tears, were deteriorated from years of harsh depression and abuse. I thought that I could run from yo...
