Pathetic
Pathetic (poem)
i fear I am incredibly pathetic.
That the heart I carry is too swollen with sorrow
so heavy, it sinks me beneath the tide of feeling.
Emotion is not a storm I weather,
but a sea I drown in,
slowly, silently.
I’ve grieved for months since the accident,
still haunted by echoes of a moment that fractured time.
The days bleed together
a blur of aching mornings and restless nights.
Pain lingers in my bones like winter,
unmoving, unwelcome, but nonetheless, familiar.
Healing, for me, is not a sunrise.
It is the itching thaw of frostbitten skin, painful, sluggish, inevitable.
And still, I press forward,
not for glory, but for gravity
for something greater than my trembling frame.
The world spins on
indifferent, relentless.
Hours blur like traffic lights in rain,
a carousel of chaos,
never slow enough for rest,
never fast enough to escape.
So I paint my lips red,
kiss the mirror like it’s a goodbye,
and laugh, not because I’ve found joy,
but because the cruelty of the world
demands defiance.
I smile. I manifest better days.
And they come
soft, golden, fragile.
But always shadowed
by the dread of another fall.
I fear I am incredibly pathetic.
-Haven Basford
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