Gone - in Six Parts

gone - 1

I know.
I know you are not here,
not really there -
not really
anywhere. I could, perhaps,
convince myself
with enough medication -
large enough amounts
of alcohol -
to the contrary.

I wish, I wish
that would work - that your faith -
my childhood beliefs -
that they were strong enough
to believe now.

It would be a great comfort -
to believe that you are here,
to believe that you are there,
that you see where I am,
what I have, and have not,
become these past few years.
...to know that you hear
my words, my questions -
my confusions, my loves,
and my rages.

gone - 2

I have seen you,
you know? Not
like the last time -
lying stiff and cold in the box
they placed you in in
that room surrounded
by your god
and his faithful.

Not as you were when,
after all others had paid
respects, hesitating,
approaching your final bed,
placing
my hands on its side,
watching
the icon slide from your hands.

Not as you were
as I fled that portent
out the side door quaking
with the implied meaning,
shaking fingers snapping two,
lighting a third, smoke
outside the house of your lord.

Not as you were
the day I sat with you;
almost eight hours sitting
alone with you -
with my memories -
watching the faithful file
in and out - in between
leaving you and I to speak.

Like a wounded,
scared,
child running to Mother
in pain or fear, I to
wanted to climb on that bed,
to lie in your comforting arms
one
last time -
did not though, did not think
anybody who saw
would understand.

gone - 3

I have seen you
three or four times since then -
always alone, always late,
always in those quiet moments -
drifting - neither in,
nor out, of sleep.

You are always obscured -
as if something hung
between us.
I know it is you though,
I will never forget that face
as long as I live, never forget
that barely visible smile
that slipped into place
at the last moment -
the same faint smile
you bore when I last
saw you.

You are always turned away,
looking back
over your shoulder -
as if to say
"coming?"
I never do though, never decide
if you would have me follow
through the door you stand in -
or if you are saying
farewell
one
last
time.

gone - 4

We never had that chance.
By the time the call came
it was too late.
Driving around the sound,
phone ringing ever thirty minutes
asking for me, my location -
you were asking
for me.
I was not
there, and
you were asking
for me.

I will never forget
the fear,
the dread,
the silence
once we reached
the Tacoma Dome -
I knew
what it meant, what I did not
want it to mean.

That was the first time
in my life I began to fear
darkness, to fear quiet; that
was when I swore I would never
not
be
there
again - not as long
as I live, no matter what
the price.
Ever.

gone - 5

It should not
have been you, you know. You
were the one always
with a warm heart, a kind word.
You, were the one
who knew it would always be ok
in the end, the one with a smile;
even at the end, your last act'
- fitting -
was to smile.

I - I was the one
who went through life belligerently
screaming at any
who would know, would
reach out. I was the one
who spat vinegar and splinters
at everyone; even
you.

It should not
have been you, you know. You,
full of life and of love; I,
filled with anger and hatred - for myself,
for the world and its people,
for your god.

I - I was the one
who did not know, or care to know,
how
to love;
who spent years
married to a bottle, loving
only you.

I - I was the one
who, raging at;
through;
the world
confused it with my violent
assault on the senses, who tried
to deny an existence by clinging
six weeks to the womb, fighting still
for eighteen long, hard,
additional
hours at the end
to keep
from being.

I - I was the one, not you,
who in the end
tried to strangle myself
before being.
I - I was the one,
not you,
who never wanted
to be.

I - I was the one, not you.
It should not
have been you
you know.

gone - 6

You
taught many things you know;
how to behave, to act, to treat
people and to stand
up for myself, for what
was right.

I knew
you were teaching, showing
the errors of my way, replacing
them with your own - usualy.

Mostly though,
I never knew
you were teaching - until
I could never thank you.
How do you thank life -
bone, flesh, and blood -
turned to dust?

You
are gone now - not here,
not there, not anywhere
really.

Gone - despite
what your god, mankind, says.
those words? A blanket
for the frail human spirit
to wrap - comfort -
itself in -
nothing more.

Gone.
Gone, and you cannot
hear, you cannot see, the things
I do or say. You will never know
the questions I face now; the
questions I never asked;
the the choices I make - I wish,
I wish that were not true -
that your faith, my childhood
beliefs - that they were strong enough
to believe now.

You - gone
as if you never were.
Gone - and I still had
so many things to learn.
Gone - four years now.
Gone - half deaf, toothless, slowly
being swallowed by the old rages,
by the old hatreds, fearing
the night and hiding in it
to avoid the more terrible silence
of the daylight hours.
Gone - and I need you
like never before.

Gone Mama - Gone
and your little boy
misses you
something fierce.

Gone.

_{(For KKV :: 04-11-2010)}