I am going to share a poem I wrote on August 16, 2016. I am just re-reading it tonight (or this morning, rather. It’s 12:40am). It’s a little more intense, so be aware of that.
Here we go…
What do people see
When they look across the room
What do people think
Or rather, what would they assume?
They see my hair fall down my back
They see my boyfriend at my side
They can’t see the smile I lack
Or know the last time that I cried
They think I’m just another person
Stumbling on through life
They don’t know my sadness fills me
That I relieve it with a knife
And then, a minute later
I turn my back, go on my way
You won’t think of me again
Or remember that I appeared that day
I don’t expect you to remember
I’m not that memorable anyway
Just think of all the people
Who appear throughout your day
What fills their hearts with wonder?
What gives them grief and pain?
What makes them smile once more
When things will never be the same?
How can we not think about
The many people who pass us by
You’ll think about those people
Once you watch your father die.
- August 13, 2016