Should I start giving context to my poems? Well, this one’s from the perspective of a dementia victim attempting to communicate to their spouse that they know what situation they are in, but failing to find the coherence to do so.
I was once wise, but now, old
All I am, is shelter from the cold
Stripped back, until survival is all
Hold me steady and delay my fall
But the signs are clear, they are my fear
Who keeps their will, when their end is clear?
An empty fool for facing it whole
But who’s to say denial heals the soul?
I see in your eyes, a reminder of the days
Before I saw you in disturbing haze
You ask me one last time, to remember our dreams
But they’re of another life and i’m tearing at the seams