Bitter Bliss: A Poetry Collection

Terror in your stomach

That dip, that terror in my stomach 

the kind that comes from losing my balance

or having the driver slam on the brakes

is something that I never want to feel again,

and yet it is comforting now.

I know the end is near.

One foot dangles over the edge

just to get used to the feeling

of solid ground ripped away from me.

I give a start at a bird taking off nearby,

moving forward precariously and

seeing the ground, so far below.

The swoop in my stomach, a reflex,

comes back, and I see my life 

flash before my eyes.

There are no parts that make me smile, 

not even that kiss on the cheek,

the love and perfection I felt for

the words on the page, making an image

in my head, of beauty, love, happiness.

I don't feel anything until I get to

my failures, the C minus splashed across

my paper, blurry with tears,

the many times I made a mistake while talking,

the time I was speechless and embarrassed,

the time I gave too much away.

This failure fills me, sadness, frustration,

and I get swept away in a tide

of self-loathing, drowning in hate.

I am unable to breathe in my head,

just wanting to take a breath,

not water, just air --

At the same time, I just want

my physical body to stop breathing,

stop living, decay in a funeral home.

I listen to my head, just this once,

and step away from the end.

Away from the hate.

Into the love.

Into good memories made.

Into life.