The prompt today was to write a how-to poem, that the title should start “How to:” and to carry on from there. My offering is below.
How to Survive a Broken Heart
At first you are sure that no one, no one
could possibly understand the depth of
your pain. And they really can’t, because they
are not you. Part of your mind says “This is
not happening,” but it is, and real
-ity feels intrusive and alien.
“Who are these people, and why do they keep
calling me mommy?” Even the kids seem
strange, like they should be changed too, somehow, or
they should stop needing everything they need.
Part of you decides the best thing to do
is to pretend everything is fine just
fine and carry on as if it is still
all fine just fine and meanwhile, inter
-minably, your heart is screaming so hard.
And there is a mental shift, and you start
to become furious, livid, that he/she
did this to you, made you become this in
–dividual whose life seems to be
falling apart, whose reality has crashed.
And in the process of gathering your
-self together there is an internal
monologue that is saying crazy stuff
like, “If I was better, if I was good,
if I were only who I should have been, then…”
and you know this is crazy, but at the
same time it seems to make a kind of sense
somehow, that this is your fault and if on
-ly you had changed, it would all be okay.
But it’s not. And as the reality of
your new life begins to set in, without
the person who left (you all alone, a
-lone) it is difficult to eat, sleep, breathe
even, or simply carry on. “Why try?”
Your heart tries its best to just give up, to
tell itself to stop beating, to let the
grief win. And you wonder how to survive
this broken heart. How? You simply must. And
so you do.