I have pictures of you and us, tucked away between the pages of books, hidden in shoe boxes and in the back of photo albums and in the bottom of desk drawers.

I come across them once in a while and your face makes me jump out of my skin

I throw your name into the wind, angrily cry it out

It cuts my skin like shards of glass

You looked upon me, with my heart ripped out of my chest

you watched me bleeding on the floor and walked away

I stood in a white dress, watching waves hit the ocean

The same waves of sadness hitting my chest because you were not there

How fitting that I hold your memory like ashes in my hands

slipping through my fingers

Nothing I can grasp, just wisps of a time long passed

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust” that’s all I have left

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Categories: Addiction, Anxiety, bipolar disorder, Creative Writing, Depression, Grief, Love, Mania, Mental Health, Parenting, Poetry, PTSD, Self Esteem, Writing

Tags: #bipolar #mania #depression #ocd #ptsd #anxiety #struggle stress #medications #parenting #father #poetry #writing #creativewriting #writingtherapy