Divinity died in early September of this year, from acute drug and alcohol poisoning. I love her and will always love her, so be at peace my love, with sunlight on your wings, It’s in my heart where my sweet angel sings.
Every textbook on the disease of alcoholism states with certainty that in the absence of recovery there are only three possible outcomes: mental institution, imprisonment or death. So if you are intimately involved with an alcoholic you know what to look forward to. I did not believe it but I learned the hard way that it was true. My grief is unbearable but I have no choice but to bear it. For the past six weeks I have devoted my time to writing poetry in her memory. The poem I have included addresses the issue of survivor’s guilt. This guilt – irrational as it is – nags at my soul as if it emanated from one of the witches in “Macbeth.”
Because the suffering of emptiness
Is not unlike the state of dead desire,
My hope is to relax in peaceful rest
In order to avoid the guilty fire.
Survivor’s guilt is careful to insure
That each debt is repaid in triplicate,
Once for itself and then for the allure
To make the debt twice disproportionate.
So death is always fair to those who’ve died;
To those who live it’s quite a different thing,
To know that in your heart you really tried
To do what’s right but still you’re wondering
If only I had done or not done that,
You’d be alive and I’d be sitting fat.
