Sometimes I want to
tear my larynx in a primal scream,
“Fuck you and your happiness”.
But I know I would reach to catch
the words in my palms and,
in a gesture of prayer, dissolve them to dust
before they reach your ears.
All of the things I cannot change,
trickle through my fingers as
I clench the fist of my discontent.

I am torn between
empathy and cynicism.
I try to be better, but
appreciation is a practice,
one I have to make more time for.
And I can’t even be mad at you, because I know it
is just me who feels these things.

A footnote in your story,
cited and neatly placed in the
bibliography for reference, but
not important enough to be part of your tale;
an option to be skimmed over.

So, I guess, congratulations.
You get to write about being happy
while I remain.

by Erik Shinker

6 thoughts on “Remains

  1. Raw emotion and honest! I’ve wrestled bitterness at several key points in life. Once, in Sweden, I went spelunking with a few friends. The path basically made a descent and return about 30M below the surface. There was a rope guided to follow through the most technical parts. At the lowest point of the U-shape path, my ribcage got stuck, and I couldn’t move forward or backward. After alternating between thinking rationally and terror, I finally got the idea to take a deep breath, exhale, and squeeze through.
    It’s a cliche, but sometimes the profound action one can take is “just keep breathing”!

    Liked by 4 people

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