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Niamh

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Death

A moment

If I could have another day,
an hour, or even a moment
with you,

I wouldn’t waste the time,
telling you how much
I love you

how much you mean to me
I’d put down my book,
my phone,

and look into your eyes
in a way I’ve never looked
before

in a bid to see you
to know you,
to understand

to see not just the father
but the child that lives
within

to see the man you were
and the man that you wished 
to be

the worries that haunted you
the desires that drove you
to become

the son, the husband,
the friend and father
that you were.

 

Dad

You taught us to sail,

to capsize and come up

laughing

 

To climb and when we

reached the top

to aim higher

 

Your life mantra was

mind over matter

never complaining

 

Quiet and allergic

to small talk

a few pints

 

would loosen your tongue

the tales you told,

the life you lived

 

the things that could

have changed you

never did,

 

in everything and always

you remained steadfast

and true.

 

Love you, Dad

Rest in Peace.

 

© Niamh Corcoran

 

 

When will you call?

When will you call?
When my body is cold in the ground,
or as I take my last breath?

It's dark and lonely in this place,
my thoughts shout and echo
whisper and sneer,
you're a burden
no one wants you here.

When will you call?
I have a knife in my hand,
the end is near.

I see the social media posts,
telling me you are there,
but a  phone call away,
you are waiting for me
to call in for tea.

When will you call?
you say you love me,
but I don't believe you.

I will not call you,
I cannot call anyone,
for this depression,
the darkness, the blackness
that holds me captive

will not allow me that solace,
it tells me over and over
that I am not good enough
not worthy of your love
of time in your busy life.

When will you call?
Knock on my door? 
Do you know it could save me?

Eulogy

A fragment of life

spoken through gritted teeth

choking back the tears

you thought you knew her

yet you’re hearing of

feats and deeds, courage

that were not part of

your conversations

 

you weep again

for the woman you knew

the one you didn’t

and wish you had,

you only saw half

the mountains she climbed.

I am here…

I can no longer hold you

or speak to you,

comfort you in your sorrow

but I am here.

 

I can no longer reach out a hand

to wipe away your tears,

assuage your fears,

but I am here.

 

In the warm sun on your back

in the gentle breeze

that carries your worries away

I am here.

 

In the soothing purr of a cat

the whisper of butterfly wings

the scent of a rose

I am here.

 

In the moon and the stars

that light up the night sky

I am never far from you.

I am here.

 

Though you cannot see me,

or touch me,

say my name silently or aloud

I am here.

 

 

©Niamh Hill

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