I dealt death today.

I know it’s a part of the job.
I know I’ve seen it too many times to count.
But today,
I felt it.

I left the room long after their family did.
There was no where I could go
To escape their

Roaring grief.

They were long gone.
And I was left with their precious baby.
I curled his arms and legs up
Closed his eyes
Wrapped him up gently.
With love and respect
Here he’ll sleep forever.

And oh,
They are so thankful,
That it was me
That I understood
That I was so careful
That I spent the time with them.

And you’re not supposed to take it with you.
You’re supposed to leave it
When they walk out the door
With one less goodbye.

But I took it with me today.

The way they felt before
The way they felt after
The long quiet goodbyes
The man in a suit on his knees weeping
The mother and son making a cocoon
Sheltering their dying baby.
The solemn face of the woman who plays god.
The green death.
The last breath.
The heaving of the living as he gave his last.
The waiting.
Slower rhythm.
Quieter.
‘He’s gone now’.

I watched the clock
The same way I had
An hour before
Waiting for death.

Soon as I could
I fled out the door
Ran into the street
Tried to outrun it

Instead I ran to you
I dialled your number
With shaking hands

I know I’m not supposed to
But all I wanted was you
Your voice

Ringing out
Thankfully
I wept alone.

Today I dealt death
And I found I am not strong enough
To sustain this
Alone
Or for long.

I found I still consider you my haven
Deep down
But that you are not my haven anymore
Or should be.

I listened to the silence
After the call rang out
And decided

As I gaze across the water I am reminded of the stones I cast as a child.
Interaction with my closely guarded emotions merely skimming, avoiding  the deeper connection with my soul.
As the pebbles cast long ago in childhood, dancing across the sparking, sun drenched ripples of the the river.
Of course I realise now that the stones found their way to the murky depths of the river bed.
A cycle of light and dark, of pleasure and pain.
Patiently awaiting the current to drag them, inch by inch to the light at the waters edge again, trusting in their journey, unquestioning.
The stark realisation cuts deep... Is startling in its clarity.
In darkness one finds strength... and an appreciation for the light when once again it emerges.
Instead through fear of pain and loss one creates  a play in which they are merely actors.
Well versed but stagnant, life scripted, safe, predictable.
I surrender to the darkness.
Within  its shadowy depths lies treasure.

I dream of a long awaited  freedom.
I find myself alone on a beach.
Pale sands before me stretching to the azure blue of the ocean.
I turn and I notice that there is but a single trail of footsteps in the sand behind me.
The soft golden plain before me untouched, unspoilt, virginal.
I breathe the warm sea breeze and my throat is tight and rasping.
I glance down at my body and discover I am naked.
Vulnerable and unprotected.
My form is thin and fragile and I muse I must have been here for a time.
As if emerging from the deepest slumber, bleary eyed and cloudy of mind.
With a tangible feeling  within of a severance, a long awaited shift.
I squint far in the distance and to my surprise I see a house atop a hill.
I notice that the windows of this house are crisscrossed in iron bars.
There is a long drive leading to a a set of unyielding padlocked gates installed  amidst  high stone walls that surround the property.
I remember then...This is the home of my childhood.
An incarceration felt long after I had flown.
Those same bars and walls carefully recreated and erected in my own life, by my own hand.
I take a final glance and turn away.
The single set of prints in the sand a reminder of my own path , waiting to be trod.
Realisation that the old ways can no longer serve me.
An awareness of the power within me to break free from those who seek to control,silence and limit my growth.
The walls and bars offering not protection, but oppression.
A disconnection and detachment from others and ultimately from oneself.
Waging a war against an invisible enemy until one is but a vessel full  of fear and discontent.
I shall not visit the house on the hill again.
My home shall be without walls and endless as the ocean before me.

Too many shattered Mirrors
Mirroring my sins.

Too many walls
Hindering my wings.

My growth remains
  still
as silence Kills.

How do you love the
Unloved?

An indifferent ache swirls in the silence
throbbing like a dancing candle flame;
no one understands the heart of silence
moving the darkness with its ancient dance

Its voice is only felt but never heard
the way it whispers the reality it bears;
disrobing the nakedness of a fragile heart
exposing inherent truth deep in disguise
retouching the chaos passing of love laid bare

Unspoken emotions that nobody hears
float around a muted tongue benumbed by fear
doubt is a bitter taste that knows not love
searching for a labyrinth to begin to wend a better way
trying to feel the unfelt warmth of love in an endless cold
waiting on a frozen emptiness that never thaws

No one understands the haunting fear,
... surly it couldn't happen again ― and surly it will,
a heart stifled silent,  silence doth loudly peal
                poignant dreaded words:

                 "It's not you ― it's me ,.......
      I love you but I'm not in love with you"

and like winter dreaming for the sun to reappear,
to come back again and dry the memory of fallen tears,
a hushed heart falls off the earth lost in ether shadows lay
mooning in the lonely silence within moonlit dapple

When you pull love too close ― it will push you away
some silence heals ― a dissonant silence cuts to the bone

       Only the lonely feel a silent voice sigh
         Only one hears a silenced heart die ...


               harlon rivers ... March 2018

I lie  below the moonlit sky.
The ground cold and damp beneath my naked form.  
Skin illuminated by  the moon’s cool and eerie gaze.
A single tear makes a slow trail down a pale and harrowed cheek.
Lost to the angst that threatens to engulf.
At war with the rot that spreads....deeper and deeper.
It has all but devoured me.
Its permeation almost absolute.
It’s wicked fingers needling and gouging my exhausted flesh.
The brutal **** and possession of my soul its ultimate conquest.
Like a forest fire it wages....out of control..insatiable.
Consuming everything in its wake.
Leaching the very life from my weary bones.
I hear a cry...faint...from somewhere distant yet intrinsic and inherent.
A voice ignored, dismissed and disregarded.
I feel a sudden wrench, a loss so profound it takes my breath away.
Fingers grasp empty air as my very essence departs and ascends.
Driven out by toxic demons.
I hear a final plaintive cry as my soul returns to the ether.
Lost to me forever.