In terms of going insane:
Daily, I dial every voice that has ever said my name with love.
Tell myself my welcome is not worn.
A blocked phone goes straight to voicemail.
You never pick up and I’ve convinced myself you still love me.
I can still hear the ring.
Like some song that hurts to hear,
I punish myself with the routine dialing.
No words have power now.
But you know I’m too sick to stop calling
Safely, you hold me at arm’s length with hands full of pity.
And I lap it all up, thankful just to hear the memory
of your mouth when it was easy to say my name.
This poem captures that feeling of not wanting to let go of someone so well. Truly a great piece. Thank you for posting.
Thanks for the feedback Philip!
There is great angst in your writing… Those who have experienced such things will understand, agree, and think about your words as though they were their own…
Thanks Rudy. The only way we heal is slowly and together.
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