Another poem for you and not a jolly, one I must say.
In the street is a hush
People move and talk deft
The TV blurs on low.
Busses and cars are rattling by, mute.
Why can’t I hear you sigh?
I can’t hear you breathe
People, all bawdy shouts and giggles – silent.
Look out my window
You’re not there.
There’s no more sound in the world
No more need for the world.
11th April 2003
I wrote this poem about two or three days after someone I was very, very deeply in love with had exited my life and had done so in a particularly cruel, horrible way.
I was absolutely devastated. In fact, if there is a state beyond devastation and heart break, that was where I was. I even shudder when I think about it now, many, many years later.
I was in a very dark place indeed. It was the kind of pain that shatters you and rips your insides out.
The sort of pain where you can’t understand how the world can carry on as normal (hence the imagery). You are in a place where you are so leaden with absolute heartache that you can’t think or move or breathe. The other party was off enjoying themselves with a new chapter in their life, which they opened whilst yours was very much still open. Meanwhile, there’s you, sat on your own in a corner, sobbing uncontrollably for days. Not eating, not drinking, just sat there grieving, wondering what it was you did to deserve to be treated so badly.
This poem is a hint at a particularly dark night of my soul.
We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.
– Jim Morrison
Like I say, not desperately jolly by any means. However, this is the beginning of a wonderful new place for me. I survived this nightmare and, met a beautiful new dream shortly after. Someone who would never dream in a million, million years of behaving like that with my chapter
Said new dream was patient and caring as I dealt with the pain of my broken heart and waited for me to be in a place where I could then fall in love with them.
And I did.
But that was further down the track. At this point, there was no knight in shining armour ready to sweep in and save me from this agony. All there was, was me, alone, contorted with physical, mental and emotional pain. I remember it hurting so much physically, that I took pain killers (in a manufacturers specified way, not in a suicidal kind of way) to try and stop it. I had no idea that having my heart broken would physically hurt – it was an education.
I know I play down this part of my life, but it really was the second worst thing I’ve ever gone through.
That old fashioned adage that one could die of a broken heart – I absolutely agree with. If you hurt like I did back then, I can completely believe it without a doubt.
Here again we see me using poetry as a positive outlet. I’m suffering so much and here I am using this art form to channel it and therefore, make something gosh-darn beautiful out something so absolutely awful.
I should probably devote an entire case study to this kind of heartbreak for my Emotional Memory series, as I know a character I am working on suffers heartbreak (but different circumstances completely – I’m a fiction author, not an auto-biographer).
This poem is important, because it highlights an event in my life that I survived, despite being convinced it would kill me. I found strength deep within me that I had no idea I even had and used it to get on with my life. It took courage, fearlessness and bravery to lift my head up from my hands and declare ‘no more’. Yet I did it.
I hope this reminds you of a difficult time in your life that you survived, even when you were so lost and so broken that you did not think you could make it. I hope it reminds you that you are strong and awesome, despite the horror that life chucks at you.