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Indescribably Alone How does one begin to describe that which is indescribable? Unfathomable? There is a gnawing sensation in my gut that spreads outward, oozing into every nook and cranny of my body and soul, eating away at me. There. Like a thorn in my side, just there. An ache so deep in my soul that festers with shame, rage and grief for so many losses, but mainly the loss of innocence, mine and my children’s. A silent scream for eternity would still not fathom the impossibility of expressing the depth of this pain buried so deep in my heart. A pain that pulses through me and pushes me to close my eyes and hold my breath waiting until tomorrow comes with the hope that maybe, just maybe, it won’t hurt as much as it does today. But I can’t hold my breath forever and today I exhale once again. As I inhale the next breath, the burning recognition, the stinging realization that I can breathe, that I am alive crashes over me as I crumble in a heap on the ground clutching to the ‘what could have beens’ had my children been allowed to live. Alas, they are gone. I am left alone with this ache, this gnawing sensation, oozing from every nook and cranny of my body and soul, eating away at me, reminding me once again that I have been left, abandoned and ignored by those who should have sheltered me from the storms. Though now, today, I may have people who care and are nearby, I will always be alone with this pain. For no one has walked in my shoes and no one ever will. My children are gone and my family is no more. I carry this shame, this indescribable pain … alone. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2012-01-07 13:04:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
Mandie it is difficult to comment on this piece. You are correct; even losing someone when any culpability is elsewhere, can only shadow the despair that must at times assail you.
Of that, let me skip the reference, and again speak to the verse and subject. You have brought alive the loss, the frame of mind and the inevitability of waking with the knowledge of what was (is) from that time on. Your piece remains a tribute and plea for escape.
Having lived in a darkness of tears at times in my life; I can presume to assimilate the passions which flood the author. It is only an assumption. “this indescribable pain†and “alone†are residue of the soul. As I have said, I have carried the depth of despair so deep it drew darkness from without; yet it was for loss not comparable to yours.
That said, and from that time of mine; I read your words and imagine the difficulty in continuing on, and the magnitude of such sorrow.
You did well to reveal it, well enough to conjure the reparation of your soul.