I hope when we leave this lapsing category of malaise
It is to move toward; “All better now” and “well”
And never look back ….
At those rags that became us
Chained to a monstrous reality
Foisted like gravity
An unnatural disaster, scattering months
As what you took for granted can mock
Even the most stalwert
Before we were thrown together 
You were sane and I was whole
Not the vomiting wretch you met
In the dim hallway of limbo
We held onto each other
As broken pieces seek comfort
In the sharp edges of others
Not misery loving company, as pleated savagry
Misunderstood by that exterior world named;
“Those who are well, as we are no longer”
It was always night and always day
No difference
No discernment
To starve on the circumfrance 
You understood
The sudden loss of everything
We wrote, as violet penned lovers
On pieces of ourselves
Every tear, every unfurnished gap
Showing where parts of our whole had
Turned to ashen facsimile
In our former world
We may never have
Shared a long drawn breath
And here, in a room without clocks
We assemble words like kindling
Speaking of forbidden things
The rest of the world seeks succor from
Sickness you see, is a social pariah
People flee, even family
And the world could have burnt down outside this hospital
With you and I clad in backless gowns
The ribboned IV, a sharp needle with scratched song
Our wet faces seeing only the glue of disease
Dancing like embers at the edge of pinkening day
Rolling into months, as illness will smother whatever you were before
You lost the bet ….
Longing to leave this new role with the urgent lust of addicts
Nosing bags of sugar, to reclaim health
Though it were a fabled prize
And maybe it is 
For those shod on soft shoes
Feeling every stone beneath
Something of trauma, acts as language
Only you, only I, understand
We’ll never be the same now
Whether we survived or died
Shifting mystery within, to a new state without
Everything changes, even the taste of day and close of night
A voice
A warning
Unwelcome insight
And you tell me
We are closer for sharing a preview of death
Than friends who laughed together for decades
For fear can make strange bed fellows
It is true
My friend found in darkness
Reflection of what we never say outloud
It is my wish we gather everything we have left
Set fire to the pyre
Douse argument
Walk right through
Finding out there is a bridge
Even when you almost gave up
There are hands reaching 
For whatever is left after the fall
Pitches a tent in the parking lot and waits however long
And it is that 
Or maybe nothing more than will
A will to reclaim
That sets us trying again and again
With the forge of desire
Silver in a cloudless sky

0 Replies to “Cinder”

  1. Many will say–and most are right, that something that sets a great amount of fear in people causes them to change. If there is truth in that, then this:
    “Even when you almost gave up
    There are hands reaching
    For whatever is left after the fall
    Pitches a tent in the parking lot and waits however long
    And it is that
    Or maybe nothing more than will
    A will to reclaim
    That sets us trying again and again
    With the forge of desire
    Silver in a cloudless sky”
    is as real and as beautiful as it gets. Peace to you on your journey to continued healing.

  2. Oh my God!! Whosoever is the protagonist needs help, empathy and love. This poem may be magnificent in tone and imagery but the cry is more poignant…somebody close by needs to hear that, drag them out of this malaise and offer solace.
    I hope this is fiction my friend.

  3. Ah, Peter said it so well. Another powerful poem, Candice. No one can ever understand what you’ve been through except someone who has been there. Poetry is a bridge to empathy though. Keep taking good care of yourself, my friend. πŸ’•

  4. I often wonder what tales people keep as secrets and why we hide them. I think perhaps it is because we oould not bear for them to think them trite or insignificant. Suffering gouges out the soul down to its deepest and most sacred part and so we bury them in the heart of God for we know only too well that He understandings suffering absolutely! It is only when we trust someone that we can even begin to reveal the dark recesses of our hearts and soul. And that is a rare find indeed. Then there is you who digs down deeper than most and find the courage to speak with words that are healing for many of your readers and hopelully for you as well. Love, N πŸ™‚ <3 xoxoxoxo

  5. I see hope in this poem.
    Hope that you can find people, friends, in the darkest of times and places.
    It has been my experience that common suffering helps get closer because you don’t need to explain yourself all the time. They understand because they’ve been through something similar. And even if they need explaining, they usually don’t judge, which is priceless.
    I like the hope of having found a kindred spirit.
    Thanl you for your words!
    PS: I loved the part with description of the hospital gowns and such. I was wondering: how can you make something like this poetic? And you did it successfully!

      1. Hahaha! I’m sure. Their main purpose not being sexiness, and considering the sort of disease you described earlier… I didn’t expect them to look all fancy! πŸ˜€

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