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I am the thing that keeps you up at night
I am the thing that makes me sick
I am the elephant in the room
I am the widow not wearing black
I am the hands tied behind my back
Certain things are expected of me
I try to keep up appearances
the world is watching
ever watching
I am the one who dirties your dreams
I am the guilty Sophie’s Choice survivor
I didn’t ask to live
Who chose me?
I am the one you can pity
and despise
for not being who you want me to be
I am angry, angry, angry
wanting to tear off my own skin
I am not the Merry Widow
I am not the ever-mourning one either
I am not made of wax
but I burn
I want you to understand
but I don’t think you can
Suburban Hobo 
Just wow! Written so well. So honest. So raw. My nightmare. And you live it.
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Perhaps I will write a book from all this, Jackie, or a play. I would like to get back to a real writing project one of these days.
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Your grief is something I could not bear, Erika. I don’t have your courage.
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Matt, you never know what you are capable of until it happens.
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There is so much courage in these words Erica. Facing the unfaceable … You are remarkable to be able to express yourself in this way. I cannot fully understand, but am here with you. 💛
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Thank you, Val. xo
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You tore this up Erica, amazing writing! You’re a fierce warrior in the face of all this pain. Power onward!
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Thank you, Nancy. xo
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Raw, honest and so powerful. Keep up the strength Erica. Always so good to read your words.
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Thank you.
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Such a strong and very moving poem, Erica.
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I continue to hold you close in thought and prayer. I hope Erica that you’re sharing your grief with others…..<3
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I always admire your honest exploration of what you’re going through, with your writing. I am also glad that you have this outlet, and reading your comment that you might write something inspired by this whole experience, makes me think of a green chute of grass coming through ashy ground.
I know this poem is what you feel and it breaks my heart. I wish I could reassure you, too, that you’re not a nightmarish creature or someone who made a choice – I certainly don’t think of you that way. Just someone who had something horrible happen to them, and who is also fighting through its aftermath. Brilliantly.
Sending a hug from over here, and a chin scratch for Samson.
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We do what we can, Greg.
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Now that you read my comment, please delete it so I maintain my happy go lucky personality on the web!
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Done.
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