Living With The Loss by Christine Moran

The Loss is a predator that stalks his prey
His shadow has followed me every day
Each birthday when I turn a year older
The Loss gets bigger, darker and bolder
He sucks out the joy from every room
Laces each feeling with sadness and gloom
He crushes my happiness with loneliness and guilt
Smashes the walls from the pain I have built
He is there each holiday evening and noon
He changes the meaning of every tune
At what should be the happiest times of my life
His unwavering stare cuts through like a knife
The Loss has no intention of leaving
He will be there until the day I stop breathing
I tried to outrun him and live in denial
He hid from my view but was there all the while.
He waits in the darkness 'till all my friends leave
When I finally stopped running I was able to grieve

With more days behind me than are left ahead
I asked the Loss if he wanted me dead
You were given away through no fault of your own
But the sadness you bear is not yours alone
You never knew I stalk yet another
Still running away from being your mother
When you turned to face me and looked in my eyes
Your actions and words caught me by surprise
You did what your mother could never do.
You walked a long mile inside of her shoes
She couldn't acknowledge the hand you were dealt
Nor ever imagine the pain that you felt.
She never once bothered to look at the fact
The face in your mirror is hers staring back
You both know The Loss never really goes away
But she is too afraid to ask me to stay.

Now The Loss and I walk hand in hand.
We stare at the stars all alone in the sand
There are still days of both sunshine and rain
But gone is the secrecy, stigma and shame
The Loss is my oldest and dearest of friends
One of few I can trust to be there at the end.