This free-verse poem was written in response to Victoria’s weekly prompt “Writing in the Second Person” from her blog Live to Write Today.
Back story: I wrote this poem during the late summer 2009, right before my husband left me. I was doing a lot of journal writing to prompts. The prompt was “What surprises you?” My answers were:
- People who would rather be right than be kind.
- The majesty of nature’s storms.
- The power of the many life lessons I’ve encountered.
- How much pain can fill an empty room.
I turned these four answers into this poem that speaks pretty clearly (to me, at least) about my relationship and my feelings at the time. I happened to write it in the second person, so I offer it here in response to Victoria’s writing challenge.
You Surprise Me
You surprise me with your superiority.
You are so easily blinded by your zeal.
“I’m right! You’re wrong and stupid for not agreeing with me.”
What happened to your grace and balance?
Your arrogance suffocates me.
You surprise me with your intensity.
You brew and stew and spew, as if earth and sky are angry;
Do you need to release pent-up energy or cleanse some accumulated filth?
You take my breath away,
or perhaps I forget to breathe in your presence.
You surprise me with your authority.
You sneak up on me.
If I were paying closer attention, would I have seen you coming?
I don’t think it matters; you and I were supposed to dance.
But did the music have to be so loud and enduring?
You surprise me with your finality.
Tell me.
How can so much pain fill your empty room?
Did you mean to leave me here to empty your pain,
Or am I supposed to simply empty your room?
Lorna's Voice 
Mar 26, 2012 @ 18:17:17
Oh. Yes. Not a fun place to be, but sometimes being with the pain is the only way to get through to the other side of it. I know for sure that ignoring it, denying it, or trying to escape from it only heightens and lengthens the pain. Facing it is how you end it.
Mar 26, 2012 @ 13:06:47
i meant i don’t want to be in the empty room full of pain
Mar 26, 2012 @ 12:49:56
You got that right! Big, deep, cleansing, satisfying breaths… 🙂
Mar 26, 2012 @ 12:49:09
Yes, it flows like tears when I’m in that place of deep pain and angst. When I’m happy, I can’t write poetry.
I never could have said that line aloud to my ex husband. WWIII would have broken out and I would have been crushed under the weight of his adept artillery. Sorry to hear you’re dealing with someone like that who will never see their own arrogance–only, ironically, yours.
Mar 26, 2012 @ 12:46:06
I’ve found in my new life that an empty room can be a joyful place, too. 🙂
Mar 26, 2012 @ 12:43:47
As you probably know all too well, pain brings out a very evocative kind of creativity. I’m glad it’s over, too. I’s rather write funny stuff. 🙂
Mar 26, 2012 @ 00:22:15
Wonderful! Although I wish it was fiction. 😦 You’ve come a long way baby! So glad to hear less pain in your writing now.
Mar 25, 2012 @ 22:32:45
so much pain in an empty room -> i don’t want to be there!!
mirrored
Mar 25, 2012 @ 20:03:26
Does poetry tend to flow from you when you are in an intensely emotional place? It does for me, and your poem is full of everything you were feeling. I hope it helped you at the time.
I love the line: “You are so easily blinded by your zeal.” I have someone in my world I would love to say that to, but the problem with people like that is that they can’t see it!
Thank you again for a great post. -Lee
Mar 25, 2012 @ 19:58:43
Sounds like your life now is much better. You can breathe.
Mar 25, 2012 @ 14:23:44
🙂
Mar 25, 2012 @ 14:23:29
Thanks. Pain brings out the profound in me…
Mar 25, 2012 @ 14:21:29
Yes it does. I write the best poetry when I feel like a crap-basket!
Mar 24, 2012 @ 23:00:37
It seems unfair but it seems like we’re at our most creative where we’re in the most pain.
Mar 24, 2012 @ 15:50:52
It’s great isn’t it. 🙂
Mar 24, 2012 @ 15:43:17
I agree with you, Eve!
Mar 24, 2012 @ 14:56:56
A real compliment coming from such a gifted poet and writer. You know I don’t consider myself a poet, don’t you? 😉
Mar 24, 2012 @ 14:55:51
Thank you, Izzy. I don’t write a great deal of poetry, so it’s nice to hear that the few pieces I do write are worth reading.
Mar 24, 2012 @ 13:07:14
This is intesne and strong but converys all of your feelings. No mystery in all of it. In reading it there is a sense of watching the drama like a movie.
Penetrating ….!!!
Mar 24, 2012 @ 13:02:54
Lorna, this is so full of both pain and insight. The ending is like one big exclamation point! Thanks for sharing this.
Mar 24, 2012 @ 10:04:01
You should submit this to Victoria’s writing prompt! Thanks Phil. I’m surprised when I re-read it. Maybe I should have added another verse…”I’m surprised by my pain.” The sad part is that my ex husband never knew the depth of my despair at his actions. He was so involved in his own “stuff.” Oh well, all is better now. 🙂
Mar 24, 2012 @ 09:57:53
I’m not a poet either. I think of my poems as prose arranged creatively. 🙂
Mar 24, 2012 @ 09:43:25
Whoa, that’s powerful Lorna! I was right there. But I’ve also been there. I’m just not a poet. I do recall my own singsong rhythm of the empty room to which you refer. “It’s your way or the highway.” lol “Yep you got that right buddy,” was my final answer.”
Mar 24, 2012 @ 09:19:43
Raw, powerful, direct, and to the point. Victoria mentioned that writing in the second person is very personal. After reading this, I have to whole-heartedly agree. The pain you must have felt at this period of your life is palpable in this poem.
Your words convey emotion
All your angst and pain is clear
Though your voice, it never waivers
Revealing how you indeed are rare
Mar 24, 2012 @ 08:03:31
Wow – very well written. It makes me think of my own divorce several years ago and I appreciate how far I’ve come. Check out my new post today – I’m inviting folks to share poetry as a way to encourage and inspire each other. I’m excited to see what people will share. Be blessed.
Mar 24, 2012 @ 07:54:01
Thanks so much. Those were raw times and there nothing quite like pain to bring out the best in poetry (at least my version of it).
Mar 24, 2012 @ 06:31:51
“or perhaps I forget to breathe in your presence.” – is a powerful line, also the thought of accumulated pain filling an empty room is excellently sad.
I think you’ve done the prompt justice! It’s great. 😀