I'll Start by Remembering

I’ll start by remembering,

Something I don’t often do,

Trying to draw back the veil,

And bring back memories of you.

I’m sad there’s little good I find,

Not much light I can see,

When I search back through my mind

For what used to be.

I did my best for your sake,

But you were never grateful.

I tried my best to keep you safe,

Yet in return—you’ve been hateful.

I carried your burdens for years,

Though none of them were mine.

You taught me silence and fear,

Then called it “doing fine.”

I learned to smile through sorrow,

To mend what you would break,

To dream of kinder tomorrows

For everyone’s sake.

But love can’t bloom in shadows,

Or in a house of blame.

You burned the bridges we needed—

And still, I took the flame.

Now I stand in the ashes,

Breathing, scarred, but free.

Your ghosts can’t chain me anymore—

They have no claim on me.

So let the distance stand between,

A mercy, cold and true.

No bridge, no bond, no beckoning

Just silence left of you.

I’ve made my peace with parting,

No wish, no thread to mend.

Our stories split long, long ago—

And this is where they end.

A quick note. This poem isn't about anyone in Ireland. It is about how my family have affected my life. 

Anniversary

Anniversary

I still scream in nightmares

that nothing can heal.

I still scream—

I still scream inside—

because those nightmares were real.

I wake,

and it wasn’t a dream.

So I scream,

and I scream,

but no one ever hears me.

Then one day,

God was kind.

He reached out in poetic justice

and eased my hurting mind.

I still carry the horror,

the shattered parts,

but there is more peace

in my heart.

For Brendan, Ger and Leah, with thanks. 

So I let go

So I let go. 

So I let go—

after holding on so tight,

so long.

Remembering you

in memory,

in word,

in song.

I turned back toward you

one more time,

took your dear hand in mine.

Wished I could see that smile,

keep it with me for a while.

But I held your hands

one last time—

love and tears overflowing—

and walked away.

'In your arms' and 'Cold Streets'

In your arms. 

I wake up thinking of you,

and drag through the day...

through dull routines and boring speeches,

wishing I were in your arms.

I walk home in the evening, thinking of you.

I get the shopping, do the chores,

sit staring at the screen,

and I was...I was...in your arms.

I stand and watch the water flow,

I walk down the quay,

I go to my café for tea,

still wishing I were in your arms.

Cold Streets

There’s no escape, no shelter.

The rain falls relentlessly.

I’m hungry, someone please feed me

before I perish on the cold streets.

The rain makes me want to die.

There’s no one to hear;

everyone hurries by,

hidden by rain gear.

I sit in a doorway,

watching Garda vans go by.

There’s been a stabbing down the road.

I sit alone and cry.