Clearing Space: A Poem About Invisible Illness, Masks, and Who Actually Stays
A poem about staging your affairs while still alive, learning who stays when masks fall, and the brutal truth about invisible diseases nobody sees.
I started to clear space
in the garage where
there once was none
not for spring cleaning
it’s to stage my affairs
before they move
somewhere I don’t yet know
Is it not a protocol
of good humans
to get their affairs in order—
if, and only if,
there is sight of
life’s finish line?
Having loved ones
terminal not by their choice
with time to spend before leaving
not snapped away
in the blink of an eye
by some glitch
of the universe
Feeling sorrow
for someone lost
in one’s life
yet that someone
still lives
Difficult when
your heart
is left in your lap
bruised, tired, eroded
Will it live
to fight
another day?
Not with walls built
trenches dug deep
and desire for isolation
where humans rarely go
Don’t hold on
Let go and trust
White pearls
white knuckles
clinging to the bitter end
Over time I’ve learned a lot
About myself
About the people who stayed
And the people I thought would stay
You are out
Out of sight, out of mind
Invisible diseases are cruel
They distort thinking,
understanding,
communication
and no one around
knows because the
masks we wear
hide things
suffering generated
by a choice
one is
unaware
of choosing
to believe stories
put in their head
by others
because, “fill in the blank”
simply not good enough
in some unfortunate way
Oh, the shame!
Believing stories
one doesn’t own
limits life
through fear
sadly most
are blind
to this paradox
and for some
they realize
exactly what
the fear robbed
them of
right at
their end
Be well,
Bert.