Action

I am finding everything a little difficult at the moment.
Breathing hurts a bit, and everything feels slow.

And I wonder why that is. After all, OK, Dad is dead, and this feels like shock. But why am I shocked? It is not as though we were close. I hadn't seen Dad in more than 15 years, and God knows, we did not get on for most of that time. We were virtually strangers.

And people say, 'Yeah, but he's still your Dad.'

I don't even know what that means. But I do feel something. I think it's the loss of what might have been. But that's not real. That might not even have been a possibility. He was one of my first connections to this world, maybe that's it.

I don't know. But there is stuff to do today, and somehow I must be up and doing.
Tomorrow will be the anniversary of a private post I put on here about making peace with death.

Well, no. It is fair to say that Death has been taking the p*ss. Fuck off You Boney Bastard.

The Haunting

He was swaying by himself
In a parlour of old bottles
Tobacco smoke and gin
And the scrape of a planchette.
I cried out, 'Where are you?'
And he danced on saying
'Don't call out to me.
You know I can't hear you.'

There is nothing behind the mirror
The walls dissolve watching
my laudanum kissed hands
refill the glass by his chair
The doctor tells the room
that it is empty
And all the ghosts agree
in their night music

To find their needle song
I mind no compass
For this is Hades
And I have always lived here.
In the silence of a folded map
There is no world
and this stillness
is all there ever has been.

Copyright and all rights reserved © Debbie Gallagher 12/10/15