Hello everyone, and welcome to the bloody 46th edition of my Crap Poems project.
I can’t believe I’ve written so many of these things.
As some of you may have seen in previous years, this time of year is tricky for me. I’m not sure if it’s helpful or worse, but the death anniversaries of those I love all happen in the coming 6 weeks. It’s a time of year I refer to as the ‘Death Gauntlet’.
I write this poem to pay tribute to the difficult days I know are coming and to remind myself to be kinder with the flashbacks, regret and sadness that seems to be inevitable.
Here it is.
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The Gauntlet
The panting drones, it burns my chest.
With every breath my lungs protest.
Each stride I take feels like an age.
Miles tick by, I pass each stage.
I feel my blood in every vein.
Pumping round the stress and strain.
I wonder if the end is near?
But pain, again, distracts my fear.
However, did I end up here?
I’m on my own, but nothing’s clear.
Many train so they’re prepared.
My lack of research leaves me scared.
You can prep around the clock.
But when it’s time, there’s still a shock.
As I stumble, crash, and stagger.
Frosted tears like mini daggers.
The death gauntlet is quite a race.
You’ll never find a darker place.
Endless grief, you are bereft.
Possessions are all you have left.
An extra gift you get each year
Is flashbacks of those you hold dear.
Perfect moments, good and bad.
Memories for your own ‘grief pad’.
When you run, think how they’d feel.
Would they want you broken or trying to heal?
Every October. My marathon starts.
Dismissing the sadness, care for my heart.
It’s normal to grieve, we’re not made of metal.
Think of your memories as your grief gauntlet medal.
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If you are struggling with any of these issues, you can visit the Grief page of my website or find further help on the mental health and suicide prevention support line page available here too.
Thanks for reading 💜
Creative Steph 