It has not yet fallen, but the precipitation is predicted
Anticipation of a restricted communication conflicted and afflicted
With distress and distraught from the current dress
Dressed in rain and soaked in pain provoked to remain in disdain…and revolt
Distinguish between the anguish and ambition
My rendition of this anger in opposition
Purposefully defeated by the terror that taunts and teases
Tasting the blood in my mouth – I must remember when cut
Brought down most quickly when up
A rollercoaster unfit for my frame
Constantly drawn into the magnetic flame
Blessed with a bundle, but mostly remembering the pain
Left untamed and tainted with my heart’s blood painted
On the shaky foundation where I fainted
Literally distressed and figuratively passed out
For my tormented soul was cast out
This burden which is mine to bear
Not unlike the Scarlett Letter one is bound to wear
Tear, torn, and lost in this unsolicited place of solitude and seclusion
Temporarily amidst happiness; yet, for me, it is a delusion
The conclusion is that I have carried on in confusion
Even the pulse and heartbeat change
When sunshine flees and only darkness remains
A gloomy mist in a dismal room
A fate which is unfortunate I must assume
There is no love felt amidst contempt and a lack of love leaves me without purpose
With no affection to reciprocate, I feel worthless
At end, my frailty is revealed
Love is my strength and without it, life has short length
Author’s Commentary:
I wrote this poem over a decade ago. I was in the middle of a toxic relationship that was in the process of breaking down in the most emotionally disastrous and hurtful of ways. I was far from family and felt like I didn’t have a friend in the world. My only source of solace and expression was my poetry. I was in a place in which I felt like life was not worth living if I didn’t have the love and affection of my partner at the time. I felt worthless and lost.
Yet, it was through writing this poem about loss, despair, and depression that I discovered there was hope. Broken-hearted and isolated, I had no taste for life, but deep inside my spirit knew that my purpose was just beginning. Instead of giving up, I expressed myself creatively – and it was therapeutic. There are so many layers to this poem, so take from it what you will and what you need.
To anyone going through hard times (whatever form that might be), I implore you. You are stronger than you know. And your life is valuable. You are valuable and you have purpose. Everyone is not a poet, but I am an advocate for expression. Do not bottle up or pack away your hurt. Talk to someone about it. Begin a meditation session to discover enlightenment on the issue. There are so many avenues for you to heal. Hardships can be overbearing, but they can also be the catalyst necessary to propel you towards finding meaning and achieving personal growth. Mine have revealed to me that I am a survivor and a messenger. And whether or not you have discovered it yet, you are too. You can get through this, because you matter.
Ronaldo Gilley 