Familoss

Would that I could,

relief from this burden eludes my grasp

We lived, we loved,

I live still

and those remaining

I should have drawn near, in precious embrace and to enjoy the love we felt

I should have kept hands clasped with brother and sister,

love ought not be discarded

and my failure it is,

my weakness on display

chasms of emotion unexplored in such cowardly fashion

distance travelled by my feet lies between our shared memories of those went ahead,

all the times I stole from us,

I pray forgiveness

Whiskey helps in its unhelpful way

I weep easily through fog and sing the old songs, this day and that

might he have found a way? I ask knowing that his life held no semblance of a good turn

too many questions remain in their places, unwelcome dinner guests and the table is silent,

a feast of sorrow

my failure it was, and is still, and yet I cling to the hope that my fear might yet become a small thing

for that is my impediment, my dread of the breaking, not again I cry, not again will I lose some so dear,

make all that is dear safe, or all that is not safe less dear, my rational coward begs, either find a safeguard to keep for all time or take from my heart this deep and overwhelming concern

I rest uneasily upon my constructed defense, I know my choice is wrong,

weak, terribly unfair

how certain can one be of safety?

None, nought, nil

lest I lose more I have forced myself bereft, clinging only to what I must risk, my only risk is what I can keep close and safe,

will I be fishing a subterranean lake for blind fish, or challenging lost halflings with riddles, soon?

We,

such a strong word, and so fragile

All of this is so false, my profession of distance and safety, I know it as I know my own skin, my own bones

I quake in my wrongness, afraid to ask forgiveness for my transgressions, pride is not a factor but for certain I have still the chance, the time, the will and the way to repair these days broken and discarded, even should I never succeed in rebuilding bridges I should try, try, try,

will they read these words?

If I should believe they would,

I’d not write them.

Oh, but I would wish them to these pages, if I could but find the strength, the courage, the compassion

Brother, sister, friends all,

daughter of mine

I wish now I could have remained, fought through my internal sepsis and recovered my heart from the darkened cave of retreat

I am without a way to undo,

but time yet marches

and we still live

would you accept my repentance?

I ask nothing but your time,

if I might try to repair all I have torn asunder

and we might grieve our losses to the healing, to the growth, we might push our way through the brambles and emerge better for our wounds

I’m sorry I ran away,

I’m so tired of hurting

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