The advice was
'Support him,
try to help him.
He needs sleep when he’s tired
(even if it’s all day).'
'Try to talk to him,
he’s hurting inside.
Help him,
he needs you.'

I believed that,
and I tried.
I tried until
I felt almost gone
My words disappeared!
A glass pane formed
between myself and the world.

I didn't know
I could go too far.
Give too much support.
No-one says that,
who would have thought?

I didn’t know
support can become a crutch.
He could settle,
no need to improve.
Who would have thought?

Depression is real.
It just doesn’t mean
that you are first always,
or that you don't need to try
or talk to your spouse.
That was just -
taking advantage.

When he left me
his soul was gone for me
and his body was still there.
His anger was new
his distance was new
and his lack of touch too
I was so confused.
I was pregnant, then a mum.
Untouched, the silence dumb.
Bereaved, intense loss
Husband won't touch me
there's only frost.
How do I even speak of this?
he's doing the chores
but there's such an abyss.
Two years more
and I realise
depression brought
this demise.
Fool, it took me too long
to understand what was wrong
but this knowledge never did
bring back his song.
He remained, gone.

And the dawn is bleak as you take your time,
flowers bleed heaven and your love is mine.
The Gods turn their backs, they're unappetized.
But my baby sparks fire, and sips from my wine.

Would you as well,
Take shape of their youthful mistakes?
The rolling of thunder,
As our crescent moon breaks?

Trace hill tops for a purpose
Scan histories for my name,
You stammer through apologizes,
Will I alone remain?

your burden to bury
in a casket of gray.
your heart is wary
since that autumn day.

your vow was spoken
under silver moon.
your promise, broken
unexpectedly, too soon.

your farewell has come
before a given chance.
til death do us part.
you may have the first dance.

-- r.s.

Will me now to leap the narrow valley
Between these moments apart
Though if you commanded my collapse
I'd treasure my last sight of you

I am spirit remembering
what it is to be a man. I weep.
As a man I remember
what it is to be human. I laugh.
As a human I return with the ghosts.
In this way, deep each moment grows a knowing:
all our sisters and brothers and others embody feeling.
Under supposed cross and imposed hurt
is understanding
human in nature.
Swaddled in this knowing is a flower
basking in the sun.
Love is real,
as solid as a pebble
fixed inside a mountain.
Conscious Being flows through every atom.
Each iota activates.
I remember what it is to be!
Air moved with music
as a body is moved by music.
I am dancing madly to the drum.
Standing still does nothing for the beat,
which sounded long before i could dance.
Love is the only dance,
Love is the only beat,
Love is the only drum.

after a while, the door sensed
that it's left to itself now
to figure out whether to remain open or be closed.
this sudden realization,
made it very uncomfortable.

from the moment she walked out of that door,
everyone in the house, had the same strange feeling.