Missing you – for Laura

dandelion-1379865_960_720.jpg

missing you
is a colourless statis
a bland taste on the tongue
a distant white noise
echoing in my ears

memories of the life we shared crowd me
seeking attention
the fine dust of yesteryear floats in stagnant air
settling on me as my sights dim
into the endlessness of missing you

missing you, even as you sit here
drinking coffee, struggling to engage,
your numb fingers twitching,
frayed from their tenuous grip on a thin thread.
I’ve witnessed each agonising inch-by-inch effort
to climb out of addiction, and every slip,
as with crimson, blood-slick hands
your tragic spirit sinks.

I long to rescue you, but rescue is not an option
so I will kiss the fog that surrounds you.
I will whisper soft words of love and free them to the wind
that they may get caught in the eye of your storm
and like dandelion seeds, take root and bloom
filling in the existential cracks that childhood couldn’t mend
healing the cuts and rips of an accidental life
but if they lie fallow,
I shall spend the rest of my days
missing you

©Jane Paterson Basil

Advertisements

Author: janebasilblog

Jane sits around and writes a bit, then she does some other stuff, then she sits around and writes a bit more, then she eats something. Sometimes, at night, she goes to bed.

5 thoughts on “Missing you – for Laura”

  1. “I will whisper soft words of love and free them to the wind
    that they may get caught in the eye of your storm
    and like dandelion seeds, take root and bloom
    filling in the existential cracks that childhood couldn’t mend”

    That is so beautiful and tender, Jane.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’ve reread this tragic poem I wrote 13 months ago about my daughter. She was in a bad way. Her slurred conversation consisted of three short phrases uttered in the same order every time, and four words: dunno, yes, no, and bye. That was all. A part of your commented was “Don’t give up Jane.” I was so close to doing just that. It’s hard to believe that she was so physically and mentally ill, or to understand how she managed to climb out of the pit.
      I want to thank you again for your support. You always showed up at the right moment, found the right words, and gave me strength when I was failing. You understood. Jane xx

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s