Hi Judy,I must admit I'm not sure what this poem is about...need more clues.
hmmmm, let me guess, Judy. Bill buries himself under the covers, head and all, thus breathes in his own exhalations. Is the outside weight you? or Lexi? Intriguing poem.
painful and challenging poem
You have it, Lynne. Lexi nor I are the weights though. It takes something extraordinary. The first time I saw him do it was after Brian died. It usually has to do with Brian but he did it when he got the cancer diagnosis. It's rare but it scares me when it happens.Scares me in that I know what point he has reached. Yes, he will kill me when he sees this. LOL Being criptique was better. LOL
A shroud, a cacoon, a womb. I can see how this would frighten the onlooker, Judy.
Glad to come back and see the meaning. It makes sense now.
Wrapping yourself in real or metaphorical covers so you don't have to face the real world and its pain or horrors. Concise, clear, effective.
Oh! The depth of depression envelops this piece. One that I love lives with Bipolar Disorder, and her depressions are just like this. I understand... or have I completely misinterpreted?
That's a bad place to be indeed, but it feels just like you described.
I feel the heavy weight and onslaught of sadness ~ Hope and pray all will be fine ~
i have boys that do this. we all have to carve out space when there is no place for us. when we're breathing borrowed air. we burrow for stillness, and to become reacquainted with the beating of our own heart. your words allow for the loved one to create his own peace. that's no mean feat.
Post a Comment