My Admission
Inside I can’t deny the ache and on my face I wear a smile like the gruesome teared and frowning face of a clown. I thought I had a hold on life before I opened myself to another and in so doing gained great feeling and emotion for which I am glad to own and glad to know I can still feel. I also gained a crushing weight on my chest that can’t be lifted by anything but her smile and her laughter and the basic attention I can glean at the best of times.
I sit back and rummage in my mind and my heart for anything to keep my mind from the bleeding, ever tenacious pain like a dagger just under my skin. I read great works and repeat to myself the throbbing words long dead poets felt for the loves they could not capture and bespeak my woe to their never present spirit. I rue myself over and over for the evident failure on my part to summon either the courage or the persistence to have kept that love and beauty close to heart.
Picture a great wall which is my life as I tear it down and weep in the tumbled and chalky remains that litter my mind. Oh, did I have control? I try to look back but it was a hollow shell. A long and hollow shell many layers deep that I believed to be just loneliness and see it for the wasted time it truly was.
Part of me hates this pain and I feel bitter to the point of tears but I would thank her for the time spent making that pain possible. Biting my tongue gains me inches in this sorrowful time I hope and with my hope I stay in pain. That pain for which I would thank her.