bored
not hurting anybody
scrolling through the numbers in my phone
I saw the name
had forgotten the name
already
was surprised it was there
in my phone
when she no longer is here
on earth
I pressed delete before I could think
too much
time spent thinking
how long will it be before I recover my breath
This has a lot of depth in only a few lines. It makes me think…
October 30 1960-July 17 1999 Dave Marks
Today is the anniversary of his suicide and I will write something later about this. Medicatedlady, the desolation and the complete clash of death with our reality will abate in time for you. I promise. HUGS Time will soften the sharp edges of the misery, even if it feels royally fucked up right now.
Thanks so much, Tel. I tried not to be too wordy and keep it pretty stark.
Val. What can I say. I hate anniversaries…and I can’t imagine the one you’re recognizing today. “Royally fucked” is the best phrase for what I am experiencing so you’ve given me the words I needed. I shall use that as my personal motto for the time being and will wait for the softening of jagged edges.
wow! says so much in such a short space. well done 🙂
thanks, jessie.
I said ‘Today’ because although the date is actually July 17, I will be away from the internet. I’m going to post about him tonight instead. On that actual day medicated lady, I will be marking his death by taking a guitar pick he owned and tossing one of his photos into the Atlantic. I wrote something about him some time ago and although I’m not one for reposting, it seems to say it all. I’m writing something else too and I hope you read it because I feel you would understand me and what I feel about this whole dying/loving/losing business.
I will be looking for it whenever you post it.
the marking of the occasion…marking the date as the event marked us. Yes?
Yes, precisely. It’s indelible. It’s cruel. It’s permanent.
I’m weary of the scars and the scarring…I wasn’t prepared for the wound to get deeper and more pronounced. I thought the worst had happened when my aunt died. I can’t tell for sure if it has. I really needed to hear what you’ve had to say, both in your comments and on your blog.
Only Father Time can repair
what Mother Nature has wrought.
We are all so temporary, and that alone is pathetic enough.
Speak your mind while you can, I say. All in gratitude’s attitude.
Write off the bad vibes as you are currently doing, dear lady.
It’s great therapy, as you have probably noticed. Just want you
to know that strange friends can be supportive without touching
anything but those heart strings that need to be played. Bless you.
Yes, Uncle Tree, you are wise. I do feel very much supported by this community we call the blogosphere. Thanks for the encouragement.
Home 
Leave a comment