jellyfish

In closeness there is contempt

Resentment in things unsaid

Anger is quick, forgiveness slow—memory lasting.

Expectations are unrealistically set and disappointments easily unleashed.

We become unguarded, real, and all too often mean.

In loving lies the potential to hurt, to destroy.

It’s a struggle

to

resist

the

ease

of

stinging

the close.

a little note

I wrote this poem May 19, 2005, originally titled, “dangers of close”. It wasn’t long after, thank goodness, that it was retitled, probably in the same sitting, since I didn’t date it. I think it speaks to a universal truth that is so unfortunate, that those closest to us do not always get our best.

This poem seems especially relevant to me right now, in this pandemic year of 2020 where we are forced inside with few places to go. In April, my youngest burst out and said: “When is school going to start again!?! Families weren’t meant to spend this much time together!!!!!!”

Out of the mouths of babes.

Divorce rates have never been higher. Separations amongst newlyweds, never higher. I know it’s tough, I get that. I’ve been with my husband for 24 years. I understand the desire to lash out sometimes and it’s often those within striking distance on the receiving end. I urge all of us to be gentle with ourselves in this time—and always— with our families and friends who are all trying their best too.