Thursday, December 30, 2004
Dealing...
I defrost myself, I must move on.
Like an awkward teenager who doesn't know
What to do with his hands,
I don't know. I am lost.
Fatigue had numbed my feelings.
But now I am back in the safe world,
Circulation has returned -
I must feel. I must respond.
When I am with others, I smile.
I am okay. Don't worry about me.
When I am alone, I cry uncontrollably.
I don't know why. I am okay.
I can feel the sadness, the anger, the hurt.
Not mine. But theirs. Of the rest of the world.
I am sad, angry, and hurt - because they feel.
The lost souls, worried families, parted lovers.
Please don't let the fire in my eyes go out.
Like an awkward teenager who doesn't know
What to do with his hands,
I don't know. I am lost.
Fatigue had numbed my feelings.
But now I am back in the safe world,
Circulation has returned -
I must feel. I must respond.
When I am with others, I smile.
I am okay. Don't worry about me.
When I am alone, I cry uncontrollably.
I don't know why. I am okay.
I can feel the sadness, the anger, the hurt.
Not mine. But theirs. Of the rest of the world.
I am sad, angry, and hurt - because they feel.
The lost souls, worried families, parted lovers.
Please don't let the fire in my eyes go out.
// posted by sakit @ 7:27 PM 
Comments:
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Saki - hello from Singapore. Thanks for sharing your poem and you story from Thailand. I have posted it on my website with other FIRST HAND ACCOUNTS. I can identify with your poem - especially the last two paragraphs. Hope you are well. Hope we can say hello one day either in HK or SG! - Rick
http://phukettsunami.blogspot.com
PHUKET TSUNAMI first hand stories
http://phukettsunami.blogspot.com
PHUKET TSUNAMI first hand stories
i was lying flat on my back on a mattress and i try to prop my head on the wall like using my arm or something and the uncle keeps giving me cigarettes because i don't want him to smoke alone, looking at that CNN woman with the painted red lips and ersatz piercing eyes saying grief moving on disease spokesman hear we then they run this music that stirs emotions they must have several choices in the library and these photoshop-blurred crying children pictures. comforting like the smell of burning garbage.
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