Thunder always precedes the storm.
Like you,
wild and roaring,
an opening show
with the rest of you hiding
beyond the horizon
where the clouds were darker
packed and swirling
lightening flaring in the rips
that couldn’t be sewn together.
Gone in a flash.
I haven’t been writing very much for this blog over the last few weeks so thank you to those readers who keep coming back. Every time I sit down at the moment to write, I end up thinking of John and he ends up in my writing which is why I’ve been so absent.
I was going to dedicate a post about mental health to him today since it’s World Mental Health Day but in the end I couldn’t face writing it. Part of the problem with sitting down to write and him being the only thing I want to write about, is that it makes me want to curl up and ignore everything. It makes the world seem unreal and unbalanced.
John was diagnosed with a borderline personality disorder a while back but he didn’t tell me until this year. I don’t know much about it, only that in the last couple of years it made his life really difficult and the prescriptions he was on didn’t seem to help.
So he went looking for answers himself and instead of finding them he tumbled into a rabbit hole that he would never climb out of.
On the 30th August he accidentally ended his life.
Poetry, for a lot of us, is how we process our emotions and how we work through them.
So for the man who called one of my earliest, and possibly crappiest poems ‘a work of genius’, I give him this Quadrille and all the other poems I’ve been writing for the last month and a bit.
I miss you John, rest in peace.
A loving tribute to John. There is so much pain here, know that I understand.
Thank you Brian.
Such a wonderful way to call in his spirit. Such a sad end for anyone to have to bear. Words sometimes do fail me.
Thank you for the comment. Unfortunately it now feels that words are all that’s left and that don’t do much good.
Well maybe the words will be good for you, or someone else on a similar journey to John. Grief is a long and personal process and very different for everyone. I hope you have support around you. Go well..
Carol, pain just seeps through this made clearer by you afterword. I am sad for him and for you. That kind of loss is never really resolved.
Thank you for your kindness Victoria. I keep thinking that perhaps I’m dealing a little better but really I’ve just not let the thoughts catch up.
Lovely tribute.
This is deep and moving….and I am sorry for your loss ~
Thank you Grace.
I am so very sorry for your loss, Carol.
This caught me, especially:
“lightning flaring in the rips
that couldn’t be sewn together.”
Thank you. John was like that, bright, beautiful and burning, but so tormented as well
I am so sorry, Carol. I was also taken with the phrase De mentions above. Powerful ending to a tragic death.
Thank you for you’re thoughts
This is such a painful read, a loving tribute, where clouds show
Thank you Björn.
A poignant tribute, Carol. Sad but beautiful nonetheless.
Thank you Maria. I think that sums up John as well.
I am so sorry for your loss and pain, Carol. I know about personality disorders from personal experience and you have captured the brittleness of the condition in your quadrille:
‘an opening show
with the rest of you hiding
beyond the horizon
where the clouds were darker…
lightening flaring in the rips
that couldn’t be sewn together.’
Thank you Kim. John was one of those people who hid all his pain and showed such love to his friends.
I just wish I could have helped him more.
I’m sure you did what you could and he must have appreciated that, even from behind his cloud.
Lovely tribute.
So sorry for your loss and it is rarely possible to reach anyone behind these clouds. Thinking of you at this time.
You flesh him out with your words and I see a creative, exciting, but ragged spirit. I’m so sorry for your pain.
Writing, especially poetry, is indeed a way of processing pain and hardship. It’s a fine line between writing to heal and writing to wallow. I’ve walked that line a few times myself. I pray you stay on the healing side of that line as you process this terrible loss.
A lovely tribute in your words. I can feel the pull of the wind and rain of life, as he searched for that piece of calm.
This was hard for me to ‘like’ but your poetry was too beautiful not to like. I guess that’s the thing about writing and poetry, it even turns the most painful experiences of our lives somehow beautiful when it’s spilled on paper. I would say keep writing, John would be proud of how far you’ve come since. Much love❤️
Thank you Zee. I know what you mean about liking pieces that display someone’s pain. Especially on facebook it feels like you’re liking that someone is in pain rather than sympathising with them.
Thank you for taking the time to comment.
Sometimes that’s all we want, for someone to understand our pain and even if it’s a virtual support, sometimes even that makes things a little better. Hope you are well 💝