There was a time


There were times in my life where I wanted to die. Funny thing was that these times didn’t come to me when I was deployed to foreign countries where stray mortars could have landed near me at any moment. No, they came when I was in the safety of my own country, surrounded by people I love……

 

To read more, please go to the post I wrote for the Seeker’s Dungeon.

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I turned off comments for this post as it was written especially for Sreejit Poole’s blog. Please visit his always inspiring blog. It is filled with countless thought provoking pieces.

 

 

 

 

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Shared Pain


Sara didn’t normally sit at bars, but life wasn’t normal anymore. So she took another drink.

The cool wine slide down her throat and held back the tears. Nothing would be the same anymore, and she didn’t really know how to go on. Mark was her life, her soul, her motivation. Without him, she was just a shell. Nothing really mattered, though she had been putting on a good show for friends and family. Everyone knew she was sad, but they saw her moving on with life. She went to work and the gym. She even managed to be social with friends on occasion. It is what everyone expected so she tried to ease their worries. Sara half thought that if she stayed busy, the pain would subside. But it didn’t. Instead, it grew with time.

It had almost been a year since Mark died, and she only felt more lost without him. There wasn’t a moment that didn’t go by where she didn’t think of him or yearn for him. Every night she cried. Every night she dreamt of his smile, his laugh, his touch. It was as if part of her heart had been ripped from her chest. How did someone recover from that? How could people live with half a heart?

Numbly, she motioned the bartender for another drink. As he brought it over, a lady two stools down caught her eye. She looked sad too, Sara noticed and thought, ‘I know that look. Maybe she could use a friend.’

As Sara grabbed her wine, she looked over and gently smiled at the lady. “How long has it been?”

The sad stranger paused, and rested her lifeless eyes on Sara. “Is it that obvious that I am mourning?”

“I recognize the look since I see it in the mirror every day,” Sara replied.

“Oh. It’s two months today. How ‘bout you?”

“Eleven months and two weeks.”

The stranger took a sip of her drink and after a long pause asked, “Does it get easier?”

“I wish I could say it does…but so far no.”

“So it’s like ticks and tocks of essential time, sink the spirits lower than wine?”

Sara looked into the grieving lady’s eyes and offered kind smile. “I have never thought of it that way, but yes. That is exactly it. Though, I am not sure if you will ever see that on a sympathy card.”

The sad stranger smiled ever so small, “Yeah, I suppose not. I guess I may as well drink then. Maybe it will help me forget some of that time.”

“I hear you. I’m on the same mission.”

Sara and the lady nodded to each other and sat, sipping their drinks, and soothing their pain. ‘At least one person understood me,’ thought Sara.

So they sat in comforting silence.

After a few minutes, Sara offered, “I know nothing I say will really matter as nothing did to me when everyone spoke. But, I will offer you this. I know what it’s like to be alone now and want people around, but yet don’t want them to speak. So, if you need a friend who gets that, just give me a call. We can hang out and not say a word.”

The lady looked up from her drink, with tears in her eyes. “I think I could used that. What are you doing Friday?”

Sara smiled. “I guess I will be sitting here.”

“Great. I think I could use that friend.”

 

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friday-fiction-200

“Ticks and tocks of essential time, sink the spirits lower than wine.”

  1. Include the above sentence somewhere in your work of fiction. (Required.)
  2. Keep your word count at no more than 500 words this week. (Suggested.) Do NOT let your story suffer because of the word count limit. Remember, it is a suggested part of the prompt.

 

Hidden in the Dark


When I am gone, you’ll wonder why

Having no idea what’s inside

Cuz you never saw all my fears

And you never saw any tears I hid with lies

 

I smiled and acted-all was fine

Really, I was over the line

Darkness consumed all of my soul

Hiding from the world took its toll on all that’s mine

 

Never wanted to feel this gloom

Was like being stuck in a tomb

I looked for a way to the light

Didn’t want to die, tied to fight so I could bloom

 

I wanted to feel joy again

But the feeling would never end

You couldn’t help, I chose to die

I just had to give up the lie that I could mend

 

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For dVerse Poets Florette Challenge.

No worries readers, this is not a letter of intent.

It is merely a poem about the very real struggle some have with depression, and I am NOT recommending suicide. I have been through my own seasons of deep sadness and have known many who suffer from depression. I have also coped with loved ones/comrades attempting suicide. They do not chose their struggles and it is hard for some to find their way out.

 

If you are one of those suffering, please know you are not alone and it is OK to get help. Please get help. You are loved by more than you think. And, some of us really do understand your pain.

Lost Love-Dying Heart


Leaves floated like feathers, slowly sinking to the sandy ground like hope in a failing heart. The wind whispered a silky voice, taunting and teasing over the pastor’s murmur. Branches lifelessly hung, heavy with a sea of frozen tears. Grave markers stood proudly proclaiming their victory as a cold and empty face could only see one. Only one name screamed from the granite. Only one name ripped through the bleeding soul whose heart was so destroyed, it may as well be shattered glass washing away in the nearby tide. Voices sounded distant like they were inside of a conch shell on the empty shore. Their words were incoherent rumblings to her deaf ears. Whatever gibberish poured from their grey lips mattered not. The sea was calling, demanding she return to yesterday’s memory. Clutching a cold endless band, she stumbled to the welcoming frigid water. Trembling hands shook off today, this dreadful day. Tomorrow there would be no nightmares for she would be in her soul mate’s arms again.

Feet sinking into sand

Drowning heart fills with tears

Peace comes in waves

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Posted for D’verse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday.

Prompt was Khalil Gibran’s quote: “Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream.”

 

This is a sequel to a prose poem I wrote for Writing 201. Read that one and you will understand the depth of this character’s love and passion for her soul mate. It explains her state after such a great loss.

Depressed Inside


Alone he sits.
Alone he waits.
He pretends,
Everything’s great.

But deep inside,
He starts to die.
And those around,
Don’t know why.

Life seems full.
Life seems fun.
But he stares,
At a loaded gun.

He’s tired of pain.
He’s tired of lies.
Every night,
He sits and cries.

But in the day,
He walks with smiles.
Laughs and jokes,
Hiding his trials.

In their eyes,
He has it all.
They don’t know,
He’s about to fall.

Can they save him
From the thoughts?
Or is he really,
Already lost?

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A dark poem on depression and thoughts of suicide that I wrote in honor of all of us who have ever had dark moments in life, particularly my comrades in arms with severe PTSD. Just know,  you are not alone though. From someone who thought of it at least once in her life and who has had close loved ones attempt it, please know, you ARE loved and it can and does get better. It just takes one step at a time and agreeing you could use a hand.

For the dVerse Open Link Night #157.