Catherine Kos – Author

Happy Sunday!

I hope you like the poem below.

Crying a River

It’s the isolation that’s the worst. 

Where the quiet and the darkness bleed together.

Like two thick streams of sludge intertwining,

unbearably hard to pull yourself from.

It’s when the voices seep in, 

telling you that the silence that comes from those surrounding you

is proof that they’re better off without you. 

That you are, 

unwanted. 

Unneeded.

You are the entertainment, 

And when the ballerina stops spinning, 

she’s cast aside. 

Because there is no use for a broken toy. 

But don’t worry, 

because following all of that 

is where I tell myself – it’s fine. 

I’ll be fine. 

They talk about how strong I am, 

so, strong I will be. 

I don’t need them in my life. 

But I wanted them, I whisper, 

making my bleeding heart 

pulse and ache and hurt.

And then I remind myself that usually,

we don’t get what we want. 

In the end,

I don’t actually know if that makes this 

better or worse. 

And in the cold light of morning, 

a brand-new day starts and

I’m able to focus on the things I need to do. 

Work. 

Exercise.  

Overthink every other aspect of my life.

Until the day turns into night.

when the silence gets so loud it’s deafening, 

and the anxiety crawls up my throat, 

making it hard to breathe.

Then the lights are out, 

and I’m back in that river 

trying to claw my way out of it. 

All the while thinking of how tiring this is.

Of doing this over and over again. 

And what would happen, 

if I just let the river carry me away.