Tag Archives: Loss

Tales We Tell


The conversations in my head,
I would rather the hamster circle
your wheel instead.
I once heard in passing, “when I’m alone, I’m in dangerous company”
Always in my head, always stuck,
inside this cycle of dread.
I trust myself, I swear.
Trust myself to fail,
trust I’ll pick myself back up,
trusting these are truths,
despite evidence it’s all fucked.
They’re just words, in my head.
Telling stories of better lives
outside of mine.
I see a passerby,
gape into my window
with cluttered blinds.

Lying on this god forsaken couch, imbued to stay here shackled,
as if I never left
to tell tall-tales
that I invent.


July 8th, 2021

Airborne thoughts, free-range, at the corner of High Street and Mulberry, miles from anywhere, shrouded in the hush of October mist. Fawna wilts, street weeds contort into strands of beige. Snow won’t be far behind.
For one last day, on a life support regime of empty dreams.
Solitary scream-
not a sound to be heard.

Missing your afternoon call, in the subtle drift of Fall. Static leaves decay, I see your face. The lines move, ridges in the neck, jaw opens to sputter old memories, lilting adage in sync with my faltering mind. Lost in time. My dear mother. Gone forever. Ghost rattles and echoes to childhood woes, the grace to care, the love for my own children to share.

The solitary scream, where I’ve felt so unseen. Blankets every breath, and my voice cracks. So long since I wept. Lonely, when the words I shed, balk to return, unheard. Gone. As you left.

I press the sideways triangle, listen to your voice-mail, the same silly intro, “this is mom”, as if I’d forgotten your voice from the last message, just a few days ago. Not always answering your calls. Through 48 years. Confounding now why I didn’t always pick up. I wish I did.
Mondays. Always hated Mondays. But I’d always answer your call. And now… just press play again Tim, its whats tangible. Its what remains.
You missed me everyday, the way I miss you. Miss you now. Cause I never thought you’d be gone. Gone away. So I press play, again,
as a reminder you were here.

“Hi T, this is Mom”.

If I scream loud enough,
it won’t bring you back.
Because I’m not always okay.
I want to hear you share the glowing optimism.
It blazed like the sun on a dreary Monday. Like today.

Silence envelopes me, as I dial your # to say aloud, so at least I can hear. “Hi mom, this is Tim, your son. Please call me back, one last time. Please… I love you.”

With muffled goodbyes, I open my mouth in distilled quiet. Solitude at the end of a long, absent day.

Maybe It’s Just Me

Sifting in sand, dried blood and calloused hands. Haze in the background,
Running roughshod in my safe space,
once warm and fuzzy, now clotted veins, death and decay. Old age.
I hate my wretched face.
Uglier everyday.

Eating at the buffet, my innards are yours
Disposable, set on a pathway
to self-destruct. Barren floors.
Where children would play. Now zombies paralyzed by screens. Dead ends, cyberspace, a broken haven, obscured the view.
Maybe it’s you, the words twisted in two

Or maybe it’s me

Wings clipped, achilles trip, no Icarus was not there, he wasn’t real. Like God or the universe or anyone who would remotely care.
Falling to earth with no cushion to brace,
no home, no place to call your own
Reaching for friends no longer there.
I’ll limp out of here, so this can end.
There’s nothing I have left to offer.

This is a sad lonely place.
Dwelling among strangers.
They’re cold and grey.
Or maybe it’s just me.
Broken in two. It’s not you.



New Year’s Daze

Accept the day, it’s all we have.

A year looks so far away now.

Looking glass self, indescribable.
Cloned for your viewing pleasure.
Escaped with our lives,
left without our minds,
no need for that where we’re going.

A decade was forever ago,
huddled now, nondescript,
a collection of thoughts,
no train car, derailed.
Fraught with intent to reek havoc
for another 10.

2020, 2021… 22, just days on end.
Dazed, and spent.
No point of return,
start this whole sorry affair again.

Fall Away

I think I’m done with this place.
Tell me I’m wrong for feeling this way.
I think I’m done with this place.

Hold me in your arms one last time
we’ll both say goodbye.
When once all we had was time
licking wounds till our mouths were dry.
Nothing left inside,
no need to fret, or be upset,
tears, welting glossed over eyes..

There is nothing left to save.
Sorry it had to end this way.
I’m done with this place.

Both of You

In the last six months of 2021, I lost both of my parents rather unexpectedly and quickly. So many thoughts and feelings circulate through your body when the two people who cared for and loved you slip away. 48 years of no questions asked–just endless love and support. I hope to continue writing, as you both thought I was pretty good at it. It’s healing. And thats what makes it good. Thanks for stopping by dear reader. Come book soon. We have a lot of life to share with each other!

I miss you Mom. I miss you Dad.
I miss the world we all once had,
bring it back to start,
refresh the best parts
get through it anyway you can.

I know you would want me to move on, without pause.
Both of you, certain you gave me everything I need to grow and thrive.

You were both right.

Skyline

There’s safety on this couch—we never need to make an excuse. My broken TV fracturing that moment in time, the last exhale I’d let you have. You never drank coffee. I should have known then.

What love is worth—the price of freedom. Not a skyline that broke the spirit of man. The light from a fire left inside, hearts stuck in the moment trailing an unpaved drive. 

The pavement where I watched you walk by as if (we) never existed. How strange that you never stopped in to see if I was still ok. You never were easily shaken. I resented how a world torn couldn’t bring us back from the edge.

I’m angry at myself—the sound of my heart breaking as loud as steel incinerating into city streets. All the people running for their lives, running towards those who they held dear, embracing love, not fear. The answer seemed so clear… the only answer left is acceptance. 

I watched the towers burn and fall, people diving from 100 stories high, with no goodbyes at all. Lovers clenching the portraits of frozen smiles, lost in time, wanting to know why, holding desperately to the memory inside. And we just couldn’t pull it together. We are worth more than that.

I can sleep in a few more hours, now that I know you’re fine, my whole life unscripted, willing to accept my flaws this time.

Somewhere your footprints hit the floor, and you turn to a lover with so many words. 

None like the goodbye we found so easily. 

Host

I don’t know
who I am,
you held onto me
and I tore us down.
I don’t know,
who I saved.
You pulled me in close,
said “it’s all in vain”.
Then circled around,
stole one last look
at my face.
Find a new host
to drain.

My voidless worth,
Hollowed out eyes
and scorched earth.
Saved no one but you,
left me broken, hurt.
I’ll move on,
if it’s all the same.
Find a new host
to drain.

(Illustration credit: Triff/Shutterstock)