Haunted, an Old Poem


a life-like statue called my name
a human blue-print of metal
stones filling its insides

for the artist, that was “grief”

depicting a haunted soul
one that grieves over the ongoing wrongs,
those of the past, those yet to come,
the disconnection or death of loved ones
and their accumulated sorrow

escapes me these days
sleep is no longer peaceful
fatigue persists, pays repeated visits
dragging my psyche into a well of quicksand
the more i try to stay afloat
the deeper is my dive
when least expected,
the fall hits me with a vengeance
overwhelming me with all that i am
i then delve into a state of numbness and grieve
over memories that won’t shut up,
over worries that shout out even louder,
over my body’s one-track-minded limitations,
over my incapacitating self-analyses,
over my faint heart’s unending empathy

in vain, i then desperately seek relief
while being haunted by grief

© hülya n. yılmaz, 8.24.2019


Filed under Poetry, Reflections

2 responses to “Haunted, an Old Poem

  1. It remains one of your absolute best and will continue to be so as it is a timeless reflection worthy of a mindful reminder! Jean-Jacques

    Sent from my iPhone


    Liked by 1 person

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