Coping

I’m not angry

Anymore.
I can no longer hear
The blood in my heart,
Lungs, brain, bubbling
Angrily, forcing itself up
Rushing through my veins
To my cheeks and the vessels
In my eyes, at the mention
Of your name, or the sight,
Of your face.

Gone are the days
Of avoidance.
I’ve freed the memories
Like one thousand insignificant,
Dimly coloured balloons,
Or any aversion
To human contact
For fear of replacement
And rejection and pain
And loss and heartache
And repetition.

But sadness is not something
To be banished consciously
For it has grown and sprouted
Roots around my bones
And flowers that die slowly
In the darkest parts of me
Promising fresh light
But telling only lies.
It is true that I do not know how
To live, breathe or move without it
But I am trying.

On brighter days
When the waves have subsided
And the waters of thought
Hold hopeful clarity
I wonder how I can save myself
Because you never did.
But the only conclusion
I have ever stumbled
Upon, is one of knowledge.
Perhaps if I understood, I’d accomplish
What I set out to.

But to search for reasoning
That I often doubt exists
Seems exhausting and
I just don’t know
Which is worse:
To spend too many days
Wondering why but never
Asking questions
Or the disappointment
Of a never-ending maze
Of confusion and dead-ends.

And it is at these
Crossroads that I realize
That none of it matters.
The past is over
But I’m still desperately
Trying to change it.
And that doesn’t matter
Either, none of it does.
Because ultimately and finally
All I can do is cope.
So that is what I will do.