Listless
She let go of my hand
Drifted off with another man
I watched as he lured her away
Helpless
Hopeless
Spiraling in a maelstrom of vices
Violent vortices
Charybdis and Scylla
Spinning around
Jealousy and Anger
Two monsters under the rock
Pulling me under
Drunkenness
Flushing me down
All the way down
To that silent place where a soul loses its light
The hell-deep trench of endless night
Cold and alone
In the benthic zone of human emotion
Where the worm of memory never dies
Feasting on the bitter sediment of love’s decay
Yesterday and yesterday and yesterday
Glassy-eyed, gray, and bloated with sorrows
While all of our sweet tomorrows remain forever unopened
Riches beyond measure
Sunken treasure
——————
Andrew Dabar
Rock Bottom
I love this 🙂
The type of poetry I like to read (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑
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I am genuinely thrilled with your response!
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Nothing like a poem with a good rhyme. Thought you might let go of the jealousy by the end, but you treasure it like a good friend. It will continue to feed on you for the rest of your life, unless of course you allow it to consume you all at once.
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I wonder how many unopened tomorrows and stacked away and packed away in this sad old world. Probably enough to sink continents.
I try not to take mine out too often…way too depressing. 💙💙💙
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I see that we share the same Weltanschauung. Heavy enough to “sink continents.” Yes. That’s why I think writing is so important because we are all in search of a happy ending which requires some sort of meaning to tie it all together.
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Had to Google Weltanschauung to make sure I understood your meaning…yes, I think you’re right—we share that outlook. The thing is, though, I gave up finding meaning or a happy ending some time ago. I more or less live for today, just get through it because that’s one day closer to checking out and seeing what lies beyond—if anything. I’m too old for new beginnings. And I’m okay with that.
But you have more miles to travel, and more years to go than I. You have TIME, Andrew. Don’t squander it like I did.
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I apologize for the arrogant use of that word! I was suffering from a dangerous insomnia and was listening to a philosophy lecture on the meaning of life.
I like your practicality. Remember that sometimes the best stories surprise us on the very last page. Delia Owens proves the point with her life and stunning novel, “Where the Crawdads Sing.”
Thanks for the encouragement!
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I listened to that book a few months ago…loved it! I grew up somewhat isolated myself—though not to Kya’s extent—so could easily empathize with her. One of my all-time favorites.
Be wary of philosophy, Andrew. It’ll make you think too much. 🧐😉
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