Where I could not follow

I wrote this poem on the evening of a particularly taxing day for Trevor when he told me he was losing hope after months of battling panic attacks, OCD and depression. It took me quite a while to work up the nerve to read it to him, but I know there are others out there who understand what it is like when the person you love walks where you cannot follow. 

Where I could not follow

He walked once again where I could not follow,

Relinquished his hope, said it was hollow,

A thing of his past, when the world still made sense, 

When his story felt beautiful and not like pretense. 

I saw the deep pain, the disorientation,

Witnessed fear’s flagrant soul fragmentation. 

Unsure what to say, I reached for his hand

To communicate gently what I wanted to demand:

That he stay here with me and not walk away,

That he pull me in close and not cave to dismay.  

His vacant, wet eyes that once held such life

Were unable to see me, his friend, love and wife. 

He matched my grasp weakly, I felt a slight squeeze.  

Then he let go and turned. I slumped to my knees.

He walked clumsy steps of an untethered soul

And I wept as I wondered when he’d be made whole.

My words hold no power in this elusive, dark place.

The sirens are louder, their song fills the space.

Every crack in his mind echoes the grief 

And calls him to wander seeking empty relief. 

He goes where I can’t, deep in his mind

To a place now familiar, yet vague, undefined.

Then I crumple down, make a home in this dirt

Place under my head, the scraps of his shirt

Torn from his body when I screamed and pleaded

Refusing to let go, my voice echoed unheeded.