Sunday, June 24, 2012

June

sit still
sit in the chair feel what you feel
make yourself sit
do not try to outrun the grief
the losses pile up you are broken now
nothing is the same the hubris
you were not charmed after all
a thousand small slings
sunk deep in soft places
nothing flickering in the eyes
it feels like death
sitting here
chewing the words
feel what you feel
drowning
gasping
no sound
sit

7 comments:

  1. I'm reminded me of another poem and the way it ended the way all beautiful sad poems should end, welcome home.

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  2. heart achingly real. I think that is always the first step toward healing.

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  3. Oh, Angella -- I hope you're all right.

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  4. And that- just sitting and feeling- is the hardest thing in the world.

    ReplyDelete

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