Saccharine Irony

This site is a compilation of fluid thoughts, a collection of poetry, random glimpses of humor and tragedy, spontaneous notions of an extremely sensitive mind.

From a Papa’s Girl December 8, 2008

Filed under: Poetry — Aimee @ 8:17 am
Tags: , , ,

Dad

~

You closed your eyes one April
and left me balancing
on tightropes of fear,
solitude and blindness.

I fought the blindness, but
the fear and solitude I could not.

You closed your eyes one April
in a room of bare ashen walls.
My eyes blurred the moving sketches
of people garbed in white,
as they pulled out tubes and needles
from your tired, yellow-gray flesh.

I walked towards your bed only when
I could no longer bear the stillness
brought by the soft sounds
of retreating footsteps
and the pungent smell of disinfectants.

I walked towards you only when
there were mere spaces between us.
I swallowed my pain and silently called you a cheat.
You were a liar.

You never told me you were leaving.

~~~

published, Home Life Magazine, April 2005

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4 Responses to “From a Papa’s Girl”

  1. well written, open and touching.

    my condolences

  2. Aimee Says:

    no problem ๐Ÿ™‚ He left more than seven years ago. I’m okay now ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. Patricia Says:

    my condolences, Aim.

    i like your honesty. well done.

  4. Aimee Says:

    thanks Trish. I appreciate compliments from poets like you. ๐Ÿ˜‰


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