Damaged
Physically overcome, a shell of what I used to be. With a hairless head, a pair of hardened eyes, an expanding waistline, and a noticeable limp. With a scraggly grayish beard that hides a face full of wrinkles, aging brown spots, and other battle scars These once proud muscles have withered away, replaced by flab and irregular looking creases. Each morning I’m greeted by throbbing pains in my neck, wrists, back, and knees. Pain that will only intensify with basic tasks and routines I must perform. All too familiar reminders that I am a mere mortal.
Of all that I’ve lost and since become, i cannot help but wonder if i ever had a chance for this to have played out differently.
Spiritually lost, a fraction of my former self. These daily conversations with the lord have long since ceased. Ridiculing myself on a daily, sometimes hourly basis for the alms I once offered. Mocking organized religion and sneering when I witness fraudulent churchmen aimed at spreading the word of God. I could expose every one of them, but that’s neither my place nor my concern. This once proud relationship with my savior detrimentally and irrevocably damaged. All too familiar reminders that I am a victim with a foolish sense of pride, awaiting an apology that I know will never arrive.
Of all that I’ve lost and since become, i cannot help but wonder if i ever had a chance for this to have played out differently.
Mentally incapacitated, even I’m uncertain of the person I will be on any particular day. A combination of prescribed drugs that I take each morning, each one working in its unique manner. Together humanizing me in some known way that allows me to contribute to this world and feel periods of normalcy. Though some daily events overwhelm me and even this protective field can sometimes shatter with ease. A mix of non-prescribed injections, snorts, swallows, and swigs that numb me each night and allow me to forget my pains. My heartfelt apologies to the psychologists, psychiatrists, and pharmacists who have tried their best to patch me together. All too familiar reminders that mind will wage wars on itself, some manageable and some not, for the remainder of my life.
Of all that I’ve lost and since become, i cannot help but wonder if i ever had a chance for this to have played out differently.
Emotionally wrecked, I’m all out of trust and wiped clean of love. These feelings on a daily basis run the gauntlet, compassion for seconds, indifference for minutes, and anger for hours. Desire, joy, acceptance, tranquility, generosity, pleasure, hope, and all feelings I wish would remain forever quickly give way to anxiety, sorrow, bitterness, jealousy, irritability, rejection, loneliness, and grief that refuse to leave. A bag of emotions, a mix of untimely, often unfathomable events mixed with hurt too often intentionally laid upon me. Buried deep, though ready to strike on the flick of a switch, while unfair to those in my life, it’s just plain cruel to me. All too familiar reminders that these feelings I continue to repress will continue to haunt me at the most inopportune of times. 
Emotionally wrecked, I’m all out of trust and wiped clean of love. These feelings on a daily basis run the gauntlet, compassion for seconds, indifference for minutes, and anger for hours. Desire, joy, acceptance, tranquility, generosity, pleasure, hope, and all feelings I wish would remain forever quickly give way to anxiety, sorrow, bitterness, jealousy, irritability, rejection, loneliness, and grief that refuse to leave. A bag of emotions, a mix of untimely, often unfathomable events mixed with hurt too often intentionally laid upon me. Buried deep, though ready to strike on the flick of a switch, while unfair to those in my life, it’s just plain cruel to me. All too familiar reminders that these feelings I continue to repress will continue to haunt me at the most inopportune of times.
Written in 2011
Copyright, The Poetry of Bryan Buser