On Saturday I did something waaaaay out of my comfort zone.
Our regular cafe had on open, spoken mic hour for people to share their poems.
I had already told our friends I had written something which was raw, emotional and not sure if would be right for me to read it out.
But they encouraged me, saying that I would be amongst friends who loved both me and my beautiful Valen.
They said I wasn’t committed and if it didn’t feel right on the day, then no worries.
So I decided to go for it. I wanted our friends, and the few strangers, to know a tiny atom of what I was dealing with.
My, our, best friend stood by my side holding my hand the whole time, ready to step in and read my words. Except she was crying to much to do so.
Afterwards everyone came up and said how well I had done / brave to do it / thanked me for sharing / just cried.
So I’m sharing it with you, my forum friends, as you will truely get it.
And I know that each and every one of you can add your own lines, in fact I think that would be good to do so.
Our organic poem!
What is this strange new world I find myself in?.
Where couples walking hand in hand anger me with my empty hand.
Where I’m envious of those who have never loved as they will never know this pain.
Where an elderly couple sitting eating fish and chips on the prom sting my eyes with envy for our stolen future.
Where the aching empty silence is only broken by my tinnitus.
What is this strange new world.
Where the recycling bin is no longer full of Amazon boxes, but of tear sodden tissues.
Where kitchen cupboards are full of Pringles, noodles and chocolate instead of chillies, spices and herbs.
Where bald patches in the flower beds speak of ripped up plants daring to flourish in piques of “what’s the damn points”.
Where his never to be worn again clothes are carefully folded and caressed in his drawers.
Where spritzing on some perfume seems such a betrayal I scrub my skin raw trying to get it off.
What is this strange new world.
Where a tub of humus brings on a debilitating panic attack in a supermarket aisle.
Where I sign and receive cards with just 1 name, where there used to be 2.
Where reading a chapter of a book brings tears guilt over its normality.
Where I leave a candle flickering at night so he’s not in the dark when I eventually sleep.
What is this strange new world.
Where gut wrenching flashbacks haunt my waking hours.
Where I have cried tears of loss, anger, fear and love every night for 16 months.
Where lying out loud “I’m ok” has me screaming inside “Of course I’m not ok”.
What is this strange new world.
Where a quick light touch on the shoulder is laden with unspoken but understood meaning.
Where splashing paint and sticking scraps on paper brings new friendships.
Where true friends silently and willingly lend me their strength.
Where gentle patient hands are slowly taking me away from the darkness.
Where I am learning to forgive myself, and others, for surviving.
Where I am allowing myself to live, in this strange new world.
For how else can I ensure our beautiful life together, our memories, our love does not die.
