Ruins
Lying there
in the cold shadow
of my own sanity,
I remembered
what it was like
to rest in the safety
of your ruins.
I was
no longer
privileged
to sleep
beneath
your
broken
wings.
I reached for the
alarm clock,
fumbled for the
snooze button,
worn off from
years of repeated
morning bashings.
I never wanted
to wake up.
But sober
and sanguine,
there I was.
Open sky
threatening.
My bare skin
felt raw
and wrong.
But God would
not wait for me
to feel better,
to feel good.
Life had to
go on.
Whether
here or gone,
whether
screams
or songs.
No late slips,
no excuses.
No loopholes,
no escapes.
I had to face
the mirror and
my singular
reflection.
Alone I faced it.
Alone I stand.
There is no greater pain
than learning
to walk this world
without you in it.
P.S. My grandmother, Adeline, passed away in 2004, and today would have been her 88th birthday. This poem was not written about her, but as I read it over just now, I realized something. Without even changing a single word, it seems to describe the grieving process I went through after losing her. It seems like a fitting tribute today. This weekend I will post a couple more poems that actually are about her. I love you Gramma. We all miss you!