The Grace of Silence
Once abhorred, now appreciated
She struggles with the incomprehensible silence,
After gifting you with life, love and support,
The distance is monumental and no bridge can now be crossed,
A once loving relationship effortlessly cut short.
**
Your narcissism has expanded to fill the void,
Thrown down in the gauntlet of pride instead,
The deafening silence of dreams and wishes,
Resulting in a heart and soul that bled.
**
Minutes turn to hours, to days, to months,
But unbeknown to you, time is no longer on your side,
Regret will be your mainstream future to come,
And I’ll be living life within my stride.
**
I’ve no guilt to carry as I did my best,
The choice was yours to rue the day,
I’ll survive — you should have realised that,
Because I’ve lived this lie, what can I say?
**
I was always aware you were never really mine,
You were loaned to me in my time of need,
A thorn in my side, set to trial and test me,
Teaching me how it feels to constantly bleed.
**
My duty was done with every ounce of my being,
I gave my all — which is how you almost destroyed me,
Would I do it again, if ever given the chance?
Yes, absolutely, but I’d protect myself to a better degree.
**
Sadly, I’ve come to love the silence and appreciate the distance,
Allowing the bulk of my life’s complications to drift into the past,
Simplicity adorns the smile that now graces my face,
And you, have become the side gig, the inherent outcast.
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.
Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Compelling and original writing
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More stories from Colleen Millsteed and writers in Poets and other communities.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (10)
Omggg, this was soooo relatable! I especially loved this stanza: I was always aware you were never really mine, You were loaned to me in my time of need, A thorn in my side, set to trial and test me, Teaching me how it feels to constantly bleed. Loved your poem so much! You've been missing for quite some time. Are you already on the road?
Have you figured out the vehicle yet? How long before you pick up the Caravan?
Strikes more chords than you realize. Outstanding
This really got me. I want to buy your book! Gotta earn some money 💰 writing as I am on disability now. This really is an important piece to share. XX
finding strength
Sad, yet so beautifully written.
YES, I HAVE YOUR BOOK. SO VERY NICE TO MEET YOU COLLEEN
I relate to your poem. I have been in several narcissistic relationships as an empath. I might I have your book in my library. I will check. If it is not there, I will purchase your book.
All of the anguish and quiet torment that this poem conveys also contains, quiet grace and truth.
Beautiful and thought provoking work.