Hanging From The Wire.

A little writing and a poem to follow.

There it was. True heart-wrenching pain. It was an expression I had not seen in nearly a decade. Life had been quite kind to you, with only a few minor sorrows. Even those could not taint your infectious optimism. Who would have thought you would come to know loss, so young, or love, so complex? Not I. The sentence “we have a problem”, only brought your wide, trademark smile to a small, semi-serious pursing of the lips. Your thoughts were mild; your optimism not allowing you to draw truly asinine conclusion. But more followed.

“He’s missing”, they revealed.
Now, someone gone missing could be a very harmless matter, easily solved by knowing one’s usual whereabouts and hiding spots. But the person they were referring to could not simply be missing, without serious reason. I could slowly see your eyes widen, your lips now tight, brows burrowed in confusion. “What do you mean ‘missing’”, you croaked. We couldn’t answer. For weeks, you kept that some expression, in hopes it could easily morph back into that simple, toothy grin the world had come to know. I heard you complain quietly of headaches, and you began sleeping less at night, bags forming under the eyes, shadowed circles very visible, very similar to smudged, faded eye makeup. The search went on for four months. The normal being would have lost faith after one, but we fought the good fight, because you would not accept defeat. You felt it in your soul that he was still very much alive.

Month five. There was no easy way to break it to you. Believe me, no one wanted to. I refused to be that messenger, so I let the others handle that. No, there was no easy way, but we couldn’t play pretend much longer. It was the “D” word that did it. Denial, no, but that was a place you housed yourself, until the truth was unveiled. “Dead” was it. Even as an outside looker, I could see you crumble from within, shutting down, one function at a time. Wide, milky eyes tight shut, lips quivering, and two clenched fist and jaw. You stood like this, until you realized it took too much energy to deny any longer. Your legs gave out, and a sound, inhuman, escaped from the pit of your gut, to reveal a sadness that would in turn, be permanently stuck on your eyes until your dying day. You crawled into fetal position, racked with sobs, cursing every God, every person you felt was responsible for driving him away. You wore sorrow like an emotional limp, that still exists. And if his name is uttered or his image shows.. those dark, desperate doe eyes, pleading to be saved, I can still notice the shot of pain come across your face. You will never cope, but simply tolerate the loss. He was gone.

Hanging From The Wire (poem):

True beauty
Time started, stopped
and slowed with you
You filled my heart
with roses, and the sun in my eyes
Being scratched and blinded
it came as consequence
to help try to heal your wounds
but i’d do it for a lifetime
if that meant I could re-write time
and stop your horrible demise.