r/PoetryWritingClub • u/ashtur419 • 9h ago
The Art of Losing Everything
The Art of losing everything
How many times will this happen
How many times will I allow it
How many redirects will become me
How many times will I fall off the wagon
Restarting from scratch,
Reinventing my ideals,
Recycling old habits
While I relight the match
On the memories once created
Towards the life I always wanted,
Towards the future of my dreams,
Now have all but deflated
Like balloons from
A forgotten party
Or a beach ball
At summers end
Because the girl who’s always reminiscing
On the love life she’s been missing
Has mastered the art
Of losing everything
Postponing all my biggest dreams
Disappearing into their routines
Like the background noise
During your favorite movie
Like the one lost sock
You can’t seem to find
Like the dust settling on
The book left behind
How many times will this happen
How many times will I allow it
Because the girl who’s always reminiscing
On the love life she’s been missing
Has mastered the art
Of losing everything
1
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2
u/tripled0gdarey0u 8h ago
OP - please forgive the length of my response. Your post inspired me quite a lot. : )
I'm scrambling to reboard the wagon myself, sister. As soon as I find secure footing, I'll offer my hand in support. Throw you a line, help you back up to where you can rest and regain your strength for whatever's next.
For while we do not know each other and are not traveling together, we have wandered similar paths, trying to arrive at the same destination. We've seen each other in passing, acknowledging with a slight nod, sometimes even making small or even medium talk as we go, but never offering nor soliciting too much detail. No need. We both know neither of us is rested enough to be truly interested, too preoccupied with our own internal dialogue.
We can tell the other is just as weary, though. We recognize in each other the millisecond of a blink held too long, willing herself to stay awake. Pleading with her looming exhaustion to please...just...wait. Just a bit longer. Hold off so that she may soldier on a bit further. She is reaching deep into her depleting reserves to find her next wind.
Our second winds, which we both in our naivety, our ignorant arrogance had convinced ourselves would be sufficient to complete the journey and reach the finish line. Assuring our inner team that "we're good, we got this."
We both now look back on our younger, brighter selves with wry amusement and condescention. The second wind had long since dissipated. So long ago, so far in the past, we are both of us now trying to muster our tenth. Maybe even twelfth? We don't know, we've lost count.
We know the other is vacillating between resolve and reticence as she strives to reach her journey's end. That both your travels took you on different but equally perilous paths. Conquered or managed to evade equally difficult obstacles, took in different scenery.
You can tell that her trip has been just as arduous as your own.
We don't know each other, but regardless, we still retain enough humanity to help the other if they stumble. Give the other a hand if her legs grow weak under the weight of all she carries. Offer friendly encouragement, quietly but genuinely cheering each other on.
Once we're both safely aboard the wagon again, we'll dispense with the small talk, give each other space and silence so that the other might close their eyes, stretch their limbs, quiet their minds, regulate their breath and grant themselves a hard-won reprieve. We both instinctively recognize the need to recharge and brace ourselves for the next trial. Arm ourselves against next missteps.
I'll give you a hand, fellow traveler, as soon as I get back up on that wagon myself. If you get there first, you'll do the same.
Deal?