i daily mourn
the friendships lost
in finding myself
by pulling away
when i lacked strength
to face each day
when i felt sick
with each new dawn
where love was lost
and lines were drawn
when i felt too much
in feeling neglected
when much had been taken
but never respected
i wielded a sword
and cut through the pain
with swift mighty strikes
again and again
and with each blow
i severed ties
which bound me to
a weighty life
of trying to do
what i thought was expected
of living in fear of being rejected
of balancing egos
including my own
of building a house
where all felt at home
but when i had finished
and my battle was won
where once stood an army
i now saw was none
grateful for those
who stayed strong in the fray
whose love was a shield
which i raised everyday
but now that i’ve triumphed
within and without
the death blows have filled me
with guilt
and with doubt
that some of my victims
might just have been saved
if i hadn’t been armed
with such sadness and rage
but here i must stand
in the wake of it all
in the place i have come
in the peace and the still
wondering
whether some dead might still rise
wondering
if i could – or should –
seek a reprise
worried
that if i hold out a new hand
backwards i’ll tumble
and backwards i’ll land
or if seeking new ties
after cutting the old
the old friends i seek
will prove bitter and cold
so here i will lay
in the dark before dawn
in the still of the night
in the dark of my thoughts
all weapons now stowed
for i have no more fight
i will lie in my bed
i will look for the light
trusting that time
might just show me the way
trusting myself to have faith everyday
that the battle hard fought
had its reason and marrow
that the pain and the death
helped me reach for tomorrow
Dog-eared Stories 