soliloquy.

it's 1:55 am and i cannot sleep.

fear. pain.

the dark holds all the monsters.

tonight they are here.

okay. okay.

I invite them to stay so that I may know them better.

fear.

kind of like an opossum. I lie here still and barely breathe.

it is vague and looming; like the other shoe is going to drop.

nothing is safe. nothing is certain.

inhale...and hold.

death. is. permanent.

si is gone.

in this lifetime of mine, I no longer have a father.

there are no more chances for recovery.

there is no road left; no possibility for miracle.

I will never hear the words I needed to hear.

of course, maybe I never would have even had he lived another 200 years,

but, now the hope is gone.

my voice.

my need to speak has left me vulnerable.

alot of eyes are watching and, true mostly,

their hearts are holding me.

but, there is a feeling like overexposure, my skin is flinching and nervous.

like I've told all the family secrets

and now, there will be hell to pay.

shocked that I am still so afraid.

and shock.

as things settle and integrate,

the rewind button accumulates what has passed.

how this began.

and then I remember the shock.

the fall, the breakin, the burglary.

the surgery, the theft.

the cats, missing.

the dog, missing.

the car, stolen.

the house, ravaged.

the denial. the apathy. the rejection.

the courage it took to go there.

to go there.

through all layers of time, to revisit the old haunt of terror.

where it all gathered itself like a knot of snakes.

the horror.

the witness.

the truth. the truth. the truth.

and the denial and indifference.

the scorn and rejection. the separateness and loneliness.

the helplessness. the hollow.

the all alone.

the all alone.

the all alone.

the cats, found.

death and more death.

horror and more horror.

pity, horror, shock.

and "no, I don't think I love you...."

ringing, ringing, ringing

the devastation of wounding,

over and over

again and again.

and, the blindness, the advice to "not take it so personally"

the mean, cold wind.

the shiver of separation

the price of the thaw.

and, mind dissolving....

the wrenching grief of

dementia.

the suffering and confusion.

the wild and lost

the wearing away of the body.

the shock

the shock

the shock.

my own mortality reminds me

I am only alive for a short while

make it count.

and my hand reaches across the bed, to

wrap myself around the body of belonging.

and I am alone.

and I don't know why love eludes me.

and my heart is claimed by a love that loves me

that leaves me alone without

words or warmth.

and I don't know why love eludes me.

the grief reaches the place of family.

the mother in me

sits seaside, staring,

wondering what became of the longing?

all these gifts gone to ruin.

kept deep in my own pockets.

pain.

physical and bewildering pain.

this agility that moved me is rusted and breakable.

I move and cry.

the bones scream.

the muscles and sinew resist.

my energy tightens and hides in dark spaces.

this frightens me and frightens me

and grieves me.

all this happened so fast.

the train barreled down the tracks and ripped away,

ripped away.

I had songs to sing, that now I forget.

I had dances to dance, that might break me.

I had dreams.

I had hope.

I almost had love...it was so close, but now

I see that everything has only been a passing glance.

a near miss.

an almost.

the grief grows down and roots itself.

I am to sit and accept all of this?

yes.

I only have this one life.

this one, wild, precious life.

can I face another day?

will I waste another moment?

my dreams and longings surrendered for disposal.

I'm meant to stand and walk away from them?

i don't understand.

i'm not meant to.

it's 2:26 am....trust is a thin word.

grief, pain, fear and loneliness are fat cats eating the feast.