June 29, 2001

My friends have left.
Runaway,
back to their lives of endless details.
I understand.
When I was on the other side I did the same.
Unable to even consider the possibility,
terrified by a loss of such magnitude,
I simply shut it out
and with it friends who were left
to sort out on their own
a fractured reality,
inconceivable.
I don’t blame them.

My family has left.
Run away,
back to their lives of endless details.
I understand.
Gone to nurse the wounds
that refuse to heal, unable to share
the inconceivable.
I don’t blame them.

There is no sharing this experience.
It’s a solitary thing
where one cannot be consoled
or comforted
and must simply undergo
marination
in a broth so salty
and bitter
no one will taste it.

Copyright © 2001-2003 Kristen Spexarth