The losses we experience in life go beyond the measure of what we can imagine.

Our lives are spent in constant preparation for that which we cannot yet know.

To know would keep us in everlasting avoidance.

We have elegant words to express our painful essence.

We say we are broken hearted,
we are torn in two,
we are missing a part of ourselves.

We say we have scars,
that we carry wounds,
that we have a cross to bear.

Yet even these beautiful expressions cannot touch the reality of our losses.

Our past is like perpetual shock.

There is a moment of freedom,
a walk in the park with someone we love.
Then in a thought comes the shock.
In a change of the breeze
there is the sinful feeling of endless sinking.

From one moment to the next,
we again suffer what we will not hold again,
touch again,
see again,
feel again,
or give our love to.

Brave words come from those who know.

They say to carry on,
life cannot end,
pick yourself up,
take another step,
and heal.

But to those who know the loss of what was,
life does not continue.

That life is over.

We cannot carry on.
What was ours is no longer in our hand.

We cannot pick ourselves up,
the floor keeps sinking.

We cannot take another step,
for we are directionless,
anchor-less,
without bearing.

We cannot heal.
To heal would also mean more loss.
We would lose all that we had left of our past.
We would lose our pain.

Our pain is ours.
It is ours to carry,
to hold,
to embrace,
to remember.

Another can steal our love,
and strip us of what we hold in our heart.

But they cannot take our sorrow and loss from us.

Ryan o0o