We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

24.1.26

Unspoken


My friend, who folds in on herself,

does not say, ‘I am hurting too deep 

for words; I am protecting myself

with a mask and a cloak; I am hiding

in a deep cave of silence, leaving only 

my replica outside (acting and smiling).’


She doesn’t tell me: ‘I’m about to shatter.

If you touch me even lightly, even if 

your voice is soft with sympathy, that

will be more than I can bear. Please

pretend that I am normal. Pretend

that you notice nothing. Smile!’


One by one, I see processions of her

acting on a stage. Her lines are always

word-perfect. (Not, of course, her own.)

But I can barely hear them. They fail

in the clamour of the shrieks that she

is not uttering, which I hear too loud. 



I'm sharing this with Poets and Storytellers United for Friday Writings #220: Feeling Deeply. While it's about a friend's feelings, it's also about my own in response.






24 comments:

  1. Wow... I think going through life we switch between these two roles frequently...sometimes enduring in silence and sometimes being the friend watching helplessly... this poem resonates so deeply...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It was born out of that helplessness. My concern had to find expression somewhere!

      Delete
  2. It is difficult to witness others' pain - of the thing unspoken but still there is always friendship - Jae

    ReplyDelete
  3. A very touching portrayal of your friend.

    ReplyDelete
  4. On one hand the poem screams of powerlessness at not being able to help a friend. On the other, we all play this game of pretend to a certain extent because our deepest selves we rarely tell.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I have had one precious friend, no longer alive, who was exactly as your poetry described. I was devastated, completely, when she took her life. Why, why, why. I tried so often to draw her out, sharing my own pain ... to no avail. Thank you, Rosemary, for sharing your poem with us.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Alas, people must and do make their own choices. I am sure she was warmed by your friendship, even though she made the choice she did. (The two are not mutually exclusive.)

      Delete
  6. Life is strange — the world keeps pushing us to choose: what to wear, and who we’ll be today.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Life is indeed extremely strange. (My subconscious – not autocorrect, this time – almost wrote 'change' instead of 'strange'. Hmm, that works too.)

      Delete
  7. Beautiful and touching and love that heartbreaking last line How the truth shines through eventhough we think we hide it well

    ReplyDelete
  8. Friends who can see, and bear, the truth of us are one of the most precious things in this world. Your friend is lucky to have you. I hope for gentler times for her and you.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Your friend is no stranger to me, A very sad situation. She feels terribly alone.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think it comes naturally to some of us to try and deal with things inwardly and alone.

      Delete
  10. Very poignantly & realistically expressed.
    This is so true.
    To understand the unexpressed and hear the unspoken takes a special friend like you.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Words unspoken by a friend are coming loud and clear from a true friend and will be remembered forever. Lovely written and I heard them all. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. How wonderful to make true friends through poetry, across oceans!

      Delete
  12. She is blessed to have you, maybe your presence itself will have her healing. A very touching write.

    ReplyDelete

DON'T PANIC IF YOUR COMMENTS DON'T POST IMMEDIATELY. They are awaiting moderation. Please allow for possible time difference; I am in Australia. ALSO, IF YOU ARE FORCED TO COMMENT ANONYMOUSLY – do add your name at the end, so I know it's you!