Year End Brag Letter
Normalcy seemed to resound
like a year-end brag letter,
for out of reach are those possibilities
when locked up in a ward.
Voices itched inside her body
and creepies crawled along her skin.
Scheduled meds didn't cessate this,
just kept the demons from screaming
loud enough for others to hear.
I ask about her, in cordial simplicity,
through our sporadic letter correspondence,
but those words only fill a void
that speechlessness requires,
for I know she isn't well.
Unable to contribute to society
must be a burden of worthlessness.
Long term, she hasn't seen
the trials of the outside world,
only the weight of sin within.
No muscular arms carry that weigh with love
and no one receives her vain attempts.
Many boyfriends have left
over a decade ago
and took her sanity with them.
Possible opportunities of redemption
are now ghosts that taunt.
I flounder for words
to tell her plainly about
what's going on with my life.
Marriage, kids, home, hobbies, a job,
all common things, generic to many,
seem like a year-end brag letter,
for in her life
all these things
could have been,
but are now far out of reach.
Instead, I prayerfully and artfully inscribe
just one phrase, and only this,
"Happy spring, a new beginning."
5/30/20
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