But no
Perhaps
in a dream
we could have
lived differently.
Maybe in another time
you could
have walked in my shoes
or you could have gotten
into my head
in a way that was differently
than how you climbed into it
before.
I never meant to follow you
down that hole.
That awful hole
the one that you lived in
for so long
Why did you stay there?
Never crawling out,
you never allowed yourself
to gaze at a faraway star
or to ponder your decency
in this world
the way that I do
the way that I
have always done.
(I still ponder)
The moon wandered down
into the hole with us
that night
and she told you to fly
and you said you would try
you SAID that
you would
TRY
but no
You gave up
and I left you there
in that hole where you died
and I realize it now
that it was truly my fault
because all you needed was a hand
to pull you upward,
maybe a ladder thrown down...
Maybe a shoulder to your shoulder.
But No.
And I'm still here.
This one hit me right in the feels. Yep – sure did.
As always, your wordsmithing is so beautifully Serena. I love how you frame things; all at once, soft and sharp – like a well-aimed arrow...straight to the heart. <3
Lovely poem! 💛
Sometimes I wonder if the people I have left felt betrayed by me in a way, but then I knew I needed to do what was done because if I didnt, we will both die in that hole, and I know I don't want to die yet.
And oh I read the #suicide tag, and the feels aren't the same anymore. 😔
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I feel the poem has deeper layers (or darker holes) that are echoing through the words, it's sad and harsh, and sweet and sorrowful and there is a what if suspended...
I just want to say your way of writing is intense...
We're all still here.
After suffering from years of depression, I did arriveth at the conclusion that th'opposite of depression is not so much th'opposite of sadness or gloom, as it is expression; and that depression is a lack of expression caused by a numbness or suppression of th'emotions, which resulted from an oppressive situation that included malnutrition from poor dietary choices—the kind that contain ingredients (such as artificial preservatives and those grown with pesticides) which are harmful to probiotic microorganisms.
Keeping one's probiotics population healthy, by means of feeding them (with organic sprouted whole grains, raw organic honey, and other prebiotic foods) is one of the keys that doth unlocketh the doors of inner health.
I wrote a poem about it: https://steemit.com/poetry/@lanniebrockstein/the-populace-invisible-original-poem-by-lannie-brockstein
To the readers of this thread whom are unfortunately experiencing depression or survivor's guilt, I hope for this reply of mine to be one helping hand that doth pointeth the way to where many other hands may help you, too: There are a myriad of websites (and some blog articles at Steemit) which teach about probiotic and prebiotic foods, as well as about survivor's guilt.
May you take care of yourself, and the probiotics population of your microbiome—for when properly fed, they will be a kind of helping hand to you, too.