I watch you escape

your pain and confusion,

retreating into memory,

where you once ran,



decided your life.

Does it ever make you wonder

why you ever cared

what you wore,

what you achieved,

what you were,

if only to create these memories;

an archive

for your threatening future.

Sometimes you define

the fuzzy edges of your existence now

in the noisy,


linear world

of your television.

And in the sudden panic

of my own mortality,

I wish you could distill this chaos

into a pearl of wisdom.

And I can only conclude

to live in each present moment,

embrace all its joy and pain,

let it take root

in every cell,

let it color

all the empty spaces;

to exultantly writhe and convulse

in life’s currents.

And I choose to ignore

the distantly circling raven,


and drawing the chords of existence

to an inexorable end.

So when I see

the pain and confusion

rise in your eyes;

when you sit in stubborn defiance

of all that makes sense,

I will take your hands

and we’ll go back

and find you again,

in those times when you were whole,

in control of every limb

and every thought,

until I see the ease

and your essence

rise in your eyes once more.


1 Comment

Filed under poetry

One response to ““Dementia”

  1. You capture the feeling so well, of wanting to try and do something when almost all hope is gone.
    Very moving.

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