Home (and a goodbye)

[Zandan]

Long absence I've had from the poetry section huh? Well, this is probably the last poem I will ever write. I don't have the heart for it anymore.

This one isn't even very good.
___


Home


The word holds no meaning
for this is not home.
Not anymore.

Coming here has become more of a test,
an anxiousness that would not leave
instead of the comfort that was expected,
that was needed.

The front door squeaks open,
that annoying sound.
The hardwood beneath my feet creaks
as I walk in.

The fourteen stairs became four thousand
the right branch at the top became a path into hell.
the left became the only salvation of my room.
Who would choose the right but I?
Who would torture their soul but I?

My fingertips graze the hollow wooden door
they grip the cold metal of the door knob.

What would it look like,
if I just turned the door handle and pushed?
What details had I never noticed before,
or forgotten across five months
and his leaving us?

How had he left the room,
when he left?
As messy and lived-in as always,
or in careful neatness,
as my mother wished he was?

Did he take his things with him?
Was there anything worth taking,
when neither I nor our family could tie him to this place?

Some part of my mind
believed that he was really just beyond the door,
locked away like a time capsule.

If I opened the door he would be there,
stretched out on the bed,
watching television
and eating his favorite bowl of cereal.

He would acknowledge me as I walked in,
like nothing had ever happened,
like my life hadn’t fallen apart.

If I opened the door
I could step through and it would be five months ago,
and he would be there again.

If I just opened the door…

The empty room was the only message.
Him telling me what I never wanted to hear.
"I'm gone."

And only I'm here to say it,
the words I wish I could hear from him now.
The words that could have made it easier.
The words I will never here.

"I love you.
Goodbye."

I will miss you, dad.

_____

Now before anyone starts saying, "sorry for your loss," and stuff like that. My father is still alive. Anyone who has read my other poems (way back when) knows that I have vivid dreams that tend to haunt me. This one just so happened to be so realistic that I woke up crying three days in a row, and I haven't slept more than an hour or two a night since(so much for getting over insomnia huh?).

Writing about his (dreamed up) death has taken the joy out of translating my dreams into poetry. So unless I can find another muse, I'm not writing anymore.

[Anime-Prince]

Okay a couple of things.

First off, I personally think that comment at the top of your post that says 'this one isn't even very good' is wrong. I've found this poem very good. I don't look at poems to see whether they're happy and strike impressive emotional cords inside.

I usually don't much care about what the subject matter is.

I look to the way it's written. The pace, the tempo, the structure, the length, use of words, and on most occasions even the lack of words. And then I look to how all of those things make me feel. It's surprising at how a fast paced poem can make you feel a completely different range of emotions to a slow paced one.. even when the subjects exactly the same.

Secondly supporting and branching from my first point, I would like to see more. If you can't write any more, then that's your choice. But perhaps it would be wise to look to other avenues other than your dreams, for inspirational subject matter for your poems?

[Zandan]

I usually say all my work is bad. Most are based on dreams that I hate that I'm having, so I think they suck. This one especially.

I will continue writing if I can find a different avenue as you put it, but my avenue has always been my dreams.

[Anime-Prince]

I hope you find another source of inspiration, friend.

[*Tsuki*]

Zandan! I missed your poems around here. DX

If I just opened the door…

The empty room was the only message.
Him telling me what I never wanted to hear.
"I'm gone."

And only I'm here to say it,
the words I wish I could hear from him now.
The words that could have made it easier.
The words I will never here.

"I love you.
Goodbye."

I will miss you, dad.

From the start of that to the end, shivers just went up and down my spine repeatedly. ><

Personally, I thought that it was wonderful. (well, not the subject, of course, but the poem itself)
I think it really portrayed how someone would feel having lost their father they care so much for- I know it would for me.
It saddens me to hear that you won't be writing, but I also hope that -like Anime-Prince said- you can find a new way to inspire you to write.