The Last Time I Cried - June 20 2023

 

The Last Time I Cried

June 20 2023

The last time I cried

I was sitting alone

in front of a screen.

Actors

performing their roles.

Grown-up kids

playing dress-up,

yet how intensely

I find myself investing

in their fabulous lives.

And how easily

from the safe distance of this seat;

sunk into my couch,

in the privacy

of this quiet room

in the flickering blue light.

Because proximity

seems to set off my alarms;

my guard up

elbows out

pulse quickening.

Like intimacy

crying comes hard.

But watching the film

I laughed openly

at the wacky misadventures

of the hapless dog,

cried uncontrollably

when he died;

embraced

on the stainless steel table

as the lethal needle entered.

The last time

I really cried,

blubbering and blurry-eyed

incontinent with tears.

How how cleansing it felt

how unforgettable;

a pent-up damn

all-at-once letting go.

And the question becomes

was that actually be the last?

I think back to the funeral

on that blustery fall day,

a cutting wind

and rain threatening.

In my black suit and grave demeanour

I was a model of manly restraint,

stoic and composed

and a strong protective shoulder.

But flat inside

as well as out.

Not so much fearful

of looking weak, or exposing my grief

as not really feeling it.

A safe distance

from even myself.