"managable" poems
I knew you
or knew of
you
I almost
knew you
I suppose
But I didn't get
the chance.
I'm not sure if
the chance
was offered
or not.
I don't know if
I could have been
your friend,
a confidant,
(your savior?)
I don't know that
I could have
helped.
But maybe...
I could have
said something,
done something,
simply sat in your
presence
until you felt
like existance was
managable.
Until you felt
worthy,
valued,
realized your importance.
Until you felt
like you could
stay.
(God, how I
wish you had
stayed)
But before I got the chance...
You put that gun to your head.
You put that noose around your neck.
You put that knife to your wrist.
You took one or two pills,
too many.
You left me here.
ALL of you,
(even if I never knew you)
left me here,
and I'll never know if
I could have
Helped
If I could have
helped make it
okay,
manageable,
real,
made you feel loved.
(because I would have loved you)
But I want you to know...
I wanted to.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
WHERE DO YOU BEGIN - YOU BEGIN BY NEVER DOING THINGS AGAIN,
EASIER SAID THAN DONE BUT WHY SHOULD YOU GIVE OTHERS PAIN,
WHY NOT KEEP A LEVEL WHICH IS MANAGABLE AND ACCEPTABLE,
INSTEAD OF STUPID, IRRATIONAL, THOUGHTLESS AND REGRETTABLE;
FUELLED BY ALCOHOL, FOOLED INTO AN OWN-GOAL IS POOR,
AND TURNS YOU INTO A CRASHING BORE, NO ONE WANTS MORE;
I AM HERE WHEN SO MANY OTHERS ARE NO LONGER,
I CAN ONLY LEARN TO IMPROVE AND BECOME STRONGER,
LEARN FROM PEOPLE WHO ARE BETTER THAN ME -
ACCEPT THE ERROR OF MY WAYS ALBEIT RELUCTANTLY,
THE ANGELS ( NOT DEVILS! ) INSIDE OF ME GUIDE MY WAYS,
IF I'M LUCKY, THAT WILL CONTINUE FOR THE REST OF MY DAYS,
THEY TELL ME THAT THEY GIVE ME CHANCE AFTER CHANCE,
WHILE THEY WATCH ME STRUGGLE FROM A DISTANCE.
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 8:32 PM UTC
I’m one of the lucky ones,
My daily issues only compiling to the size of a puddle,
I’m made to sit in it each day, never to get out,
But I’m lucky, it’s managable,
There are others out there surrounded by oceans,
Continuously struggling to stay afloat,
Screaming for help but the sound of their voice unable to break the surface,
Sinking, marks on their wrists with a fistful of pills,
Tempted, so tempted to give up,
I want to help, I should help,
But I’m not strong enough,
If I grab ahold they’ll pull me under,
My luck would wash away with the waves,
At least that’s what I’m afraid of,
Because I’m one of the lucky ones,
And I don’t want that to change.
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC