With this loss
I’m at a loss
I cannot write
Or sing
Or cry
There is Nothing Left
But a memory
Of something I had hoped would be,
Fully.
Gone…
My dreams show me The Tragedy
That in my Living State I cannot see
Or feel
It would be too great a pain
Funny how the psyche works —
Kicks in like it does
Disconnects us from the stuff
We’d never be able to get through
Meanwhile, I type
But do not mistake it for writing
These are the apathetic, colorless words
Of a poet who is no longer a poet
This is the guarded, shaded voice of a person
Who will not touch love again in the same way
Because This State is not worth it
Perhaps you say
“You’ll move through”
Perhaps you are being kind but naive
One Door
Has shut
And you can be sure
That Door (for there was never another like it)
Will not be opened.
With this loss
I am merely a whisper of the person
I was.
ariaphoenix 
I do wonder. Thank you for writing this, I needed it. “no longer a poet,” surely that doesn’t mean you won’t write poetry.? because then I might not either…
I will always try and come back to poetry. I think of you often. Please never stop writing.
Don’t try, do. Funny how someone we meet so briefly can remain in our minds for such a long time. But I guess some people never really forget. I will do my best to never stop writing, in fact I may make a career out of it. I hope you are well as can be.
Ha. Yes. (To the don’t try, do). You made such a big impact on me and that was such a painful time. If ever you feel up to an update, I’d love to hear how you’re doing. katie.heeran@gmail.com. If not, that’s okay too. I hope you, too, are as well as can be.