Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Who are you?

I look in the mirror
I don't recognize who is looking back at me
I am what's left
One side of the portrait

Is there beauty in pain?
Maybe, but the pain remains
I am half of what we were
No beauty of life can replace that

I am what remains
It is a very different view
I don't like it
But I must see it

You are so alive in my dreams
The waking world wants more
I can only survive
I can't offer what we would

I am alone in this beautiful hell
Of love and family shattered
If only you could come back to me
Until then, I am lost.


  1. Hauntingly beautiful! Grief and sadness create poets of us all. Here's what I wrote when I was at your stage of grieving:

    The Kite and the String

    Don held my string.
    He helped me fly
    But times change
    and husbands die.
    I try time and again
    to untangle myself
    from tree after tree
    and whether or not
    I find my way in wind
    again remains to be seen.

    by Jean Riva 2013 ©

    1. Jean, that is beautiful! I love the kite metaphor, so perfect. Thank you so much for sharing this. I got a lot out of it. <3