The shock comes first.
Wells of surprise
flooding over every centimeter of skin,
Valleys of incredulity
rolling across my mind,
An abyss of disbelief
clouding over everything else.
But then comes the anger.
Horrible,
twisting,
immeasurable anger,
filling me up,
bending me backwards,
destroying me
as fast as
it can.
The sadness follows.
Tunnels of sadness,
plunging me into hopelessness and
despair,
making me believe
that nothing will ever be
joyous again.
And then at last
I find the words
to speak,
and so I do.
I speak and chatter,
I talk and blather.
I lecture and chide,
I argue and cry.
I scream and I shout,
I holler and yelp.
And all he does is stand there
and stare,
just stands and stares at me.
My voice fades, for I realize
that my words
will do
nothing.
No matter
what I speak,
nothing will change,
nothing will sway.
Everything will
be just the
same.
Nothing I say
can change what he’s done.
Nothing I wish
will turn back time.
And nothing I do
will erase that Mark,
that Mark that’s on his arm.