We knew it had to happen.
You reap the fruits of what you sow.
Our only question was
how big would your crash be?
You made yourself a spectacle.
We saw the downhill path,
but only I felt sympathy.
I understand trajectories.
I have followed your track before.
Don't think I pity you.
Should I speak, or stay silent?
Touch your hand or pull away?
My kindness made you angry.
Words faltered on my lips.
These are my sins of omission.
Everything then made you angry.
Maybe it still does.
Why do you resent the world?
Has this crack-up eased your pain?
Who bandages your wounds?
Maybe you're still full of holes,
hot emotions that will not cool.
You cannot speak your needs
except in mad and futile gesture.
You push helping hands away.
And now the wreckage lies here
in one mad desperate heap.
The fires burn for all to see.
Is this enough to make you stop?
How far is far enough?
I wanted so much to warn you,
and tell you all I knew.
It would have made no difference.
You hated that I cared.
You didn't want the truth.
Please come back from the edge,
speak to those who do not judge.
Let patient persons love you.
Let someone give a damn.
Like me. Like you.
Instead of more destruction,
arise from these dark ruins.
And in tomorrow’s sunrise,
let us hear your Phoenix song.
This was written for Three Word Wednesday.
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8 comments:
It's interesting to hear from 'the other side' so to speak..how hard it must be too watch..to care..perhaps rising from the ashes is something we can only do by ourselves..jae
August 1, 2012 at 11:02 AMFor a too-long period of my life I was that train wreck...and acted like I didn't want anything from anyone, but I really did want some help.....Everything worked out for the best, and I am ok...your words struck me to the core...
August 1, 2012 at 11:45 AMsometimes you beg and plead but they don;t hear until they crash and burn
August 1, 2012 at 11:46 AMThere are many of these "train wrecks" waiting to happen. If only we could help - but as your poem illustrates - the best we can hope for is to be allowed to help pick up the pieces.
August 1, 2012 at 1:35 PMbeautiful. I hear the italicized words echo in my head as I read. I love the last line.
August 1, 2012 at 6:31 PMNo matter how much we love someone and try to help them to take that first step, that must come them not us. A crutch does not work by itself.
August 1, 2012 at 8:45 PMWhat an insightful post.
I could easily see this coming from either a parent or a lover. It's so hard to watch the ones you love destroy themselves.
August 2, 2012 at 12:16 PM@Alice: I actually had a particular work acquaintance in mind when I wrote this, but now it applies to someone else I know (also from work) as well.
August 2, 2012 at 1:51 PMPost a Comment