I blame myself.

It’s not secret on this blog that Depression takes me over a lot.

That my depression is a chronic reoccurring nightmare that not only tires me, but the people around me too.

Perhaps last year and still through to this year one major reason for such severe blips lately is the delayed impact of losing my best friend in January 2020 .

Yes she was ‘only a little budgie’ but she wasn’t ‘only a little budgie’ to me.

It didn’t help that I didn’t lose her in the usual way either. I lost her due to my own mistake, and that is something I find very hard to live with.

As it is I’m already a person prone to guilt, never mind a mistake where a little innocent life was ruined, or ended because of a mistake I made in the first place.

I had a dream last night that she came back home and then I lost he all over again, and throughout the whole dream I just kept hearing her calls but yet never finding where the calls were coming from.
And I’ve done that in real life too. I’ve heard calls I thought were her.
I’ve sat in the bathroom brushing my teeth and heard a call that sounded like it was coming from behind the extractor fan grid.
I’ve heard calls when walking out into the corridor from my flat.
I’ve heard calls I thought sounded like her when outside but it was probably just another bird that sounded a bit like her. Or maybe she sounded like them.

I see feathers from different birds that have been either moulted or stripped off from a predator and I always stop in my tracks and look more closely, looking for her blue colour in the feather.
Sometimes I see the blue colour and then I look around and say, ‘Charlie?’ As if the feather is hers and she’s somewhere close by.

But she’s never there. She’s never here.

Sometimes I look down at a feather for a bit too long, in the way of someone trying to get past me while keeping a distance.
I look and look, and look some more till I convince myself I see blue, her blue. And it’s hers.
But it isn’t.

Sometimes I look at the feather, look around and then say aloud, ‘I’m sorry, Charlie.’

It might have been a mistake, but I still blame myself.

It might not have been purposeful, but I still blame myself.

And I don’t know if there will ever come a time I won’t blame myself.

I have a budgie I ended up rescuing, he has learnt some funny phrases. And it makes me laugh.


But I still

Blame

Myself.

Sadness like an unquenchable thirst

Our skin has been shed
outside renewed

this is how it accumulates
like dust on books

inside all the days
and years spread

and every time we scream
it’s wasted breath

because in our voice
our sadness can’t be contained

It simply runs wild
Within our veins

too powerful for outside
Much too strong for us inside

The tears are never enough
for the accidental goodbyes

the shock & horror
always there, always filling lungs with empty

This is how it accumulates
Till we’re undone

one with the dirt
no more synapses producing hurt

Absence

As the orchestra plays it’s song
your absence is in every note
your absence is in every tone
You’ve become the music
Something I can’t touch
The music is the memory
Of you being here with me
And it hurts.
You were so small
And the biggest thing in my life
Now your absence follows me
I am not the same.
I cannot carry this burden
But I will not let you go
Your absence is all I have left to hold

Rain

My emptiness is full tonight
As the sun sets just out of sight
I picture you coming home
But it’s too late

No time for goodbyes
Gone in the blink of an eye
And the sky doesn’t care
Cause the clouds aren’t here
Raining like it ought to be

Heavy breath full of empty
It’s hard to breathe
When you can see
The world is continuing
Without you

And my world is nothing
Cause it revolved around you

I want the rain
Raining over me
Dilute these tears
Before I disintegrate
I want the rain
Let it rain over me

It’s not raining like it ought to be

Time is indifferent.

I resent how time
Doesn’t stop
When all should be still
To remember you

I resent how breaths
Can be seen in the cold
Life continuing
As if to be so bold
Like you were never even here

How the wind howls against the windows
As if to threaten to shatter warmth
Even though I’m already cold
As I imagine you are, somewhere out there

Cold, and already so old
As if time hastened its arrival
Letting you go
So chronologically young.