Progress

A in-depth look into coping with loss and moving forward. Contemplating whether or not numbness is the answer.

Time has a way of wiping away

Any progress made

Like painting a black canvas only to have someone gloss over it with a white coat.

I feel like I'm trying to light a match underwater.

Futility.

Futility is trying to convince a narcissist that they're wrong,

Or trying to communicate through the throes of what someone else is going through,

they don't want to hear you.

They want to replay their morbid thoughts back to themselves and indulge in their own pain.

I feel like I'm trying to write my name in water.

Strength.

Strength is crushing coal and making diamonds with your bare hands,

Or fighting off a wave of anger, or sorrow, that covers over your body like a blanket of fire.

I'm not strong enough to withstand my own gravity.

I feel like I'm trying to carry an ocean of water.

I can't swim.

I never learned how. 

if only my coldness could freeze this water into ice.

I'd cover it in gas and light it on fire. 

I'd chisel my name into it.

I'd crush it until it's in little pieces, then carry what's left and let it dissolve in my palm.

I'd make progress, defy futility, and gain strength.

Or so it seems.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i wonder if we ever really gain on the pain...and so often it seems like a competition....who can have the most drama in his or her life.

this one lets it out...
j.