Take This Lancet Of A Pen…

I know I saw you
Walk out that door,
Taking with you
Everything that used
To be us,

But the eyes
Can be deceived,
Can’t they,

Only the heart
Sees with clarity,

Seeing from the inside,

And mine still sees
You here with me.

But maybe it’s
The lens effect
Of my tears,
Blurring my heart’s vision,

Somehow distorting
The truth…

Or more likely,
Those tears are simply
Reflective of the truth,

Aren’t they?

It’s just not that easy
To forget,

Though now,
I wish it was.

For sitting here tonight,
Trying to stave off the loneliness,

My mind rewinds,
And relives,
The brilliant colors,
When a spring bloomed in us,

Now just the cold
Desolation of a winter’s loss.

My only consolation
Is that there’s no one here
To mock my weeping,

A grown man


Out of the untenable pain,

Unable to purge
The you from me,

Knowing it will
Get worse
Before it gets better.

So here I sit,

Thinking and,

Drinking and,


And trying so profoundly
To forget.

Doing my best,
To take this lancet
Of a pen,

And bleed you from me,

All over these pages,

Wanting and needing
To write your memory
Out of me …

To write our final chapter,
That I never want to read.

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

38 thoughts on “Take This Lancet Of A Pen…

      1. I so much agree with you Jamie! I feel like I need to write sad pieces to balance out the positive ones… because life is a combination of both… yes?


      2. I know exactly what you mean Jamie. I decided in the summer of 2017 when I started this blog/writing, that I was doing it for me…to give me a chance to voice my thoughts, regardless of what others thought.

        So, here I am.


        Liked by 1 person

  1. Wow! This one gave me goosebumps… “and bleed you from me all over these pages”. So profound and sorrowful. The power of poetry…to let it all out…and hopefully, let it go. Bravo.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You wrote it very fine, I loved the flow and the metaphorical use of pen to reflect on the memories gone by and all that is left out. It’s a kind of a love Ode, may be the most poignant and deep poems of yours so far. Certain lines like a grown up man sobbing , drinking and writing reminded me of celebrated Irish poet, W.B Yeats poems addressed to his beloved Maud Gaunne and his age. The tinge Of grim winters make it more poignant. All in all a very fine poem!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I so much appreciate your thoughts Tanya…and it’s very kind and generous of you! Thank you so much for the support, and willingness to invest some of your precious time reading my work!

      I hope you have a wonderful evening!!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. That is exactly right!! I feel compelled to write about the good, the bad, the right, the wrong…because that’s the complete portrait of life….isn’t it? All the hues “buried in the unfathomable pits of our heart.” (Love that phrase by the way…you should craft those words into verse!)

        Liked by 1 person

  3. I like the sad poetry as well as the happier stuff. I write sad myself very often.mmlufe is not all happy alwats, and I do feel that pain can bring out the best in us as writers, though I do not know why that is!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Lorraine!! And, I know exactly what you mean. For me, it’s as if there is a rawness and vitality in the peeling open of the hurt in life…maybe that’s a little strange…but I feel so strongly about balancing my themes. Just like life.

      So many thanks for your comments and interest!!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Great poem! Thank you for sharing it.
    The power of words put down on paper! Stirring our own deep emotions, molding them slowly but steadily..just like a magician’s hands…without touching and by just slowly guiding..Words such as yours in this poem…has that magical power! It can raise our emotions all the way from the dark deep…all the way to the surface. We are looking in awe…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I wish you the kind of excision that exposes the jewel of your perfection, solemn in your self and yet, the seed of passionate joy. There is no explanation for the division of our hearts, no salve that doesn’t burn in the aftermath of separation, yet… when all is done, and we are breathing, and alone, then we can look about, at the crumpled party hats and napkins on the floor, and find there’s a song sheet under there, and it’s just what you want to play, what you need to hear, what you’re going to be singing as you heal.

    I wish you brilliant, excessive, and magical love, coming at you from all directions, but especially from that sheet of music you discover in your soul.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. OMG….so very kind and perfect.

      Thank you so much for your very kind and generous comments!!!

      Clearly, you have a prescience and beautiful clarity at to what’s most important in life…and I relish that!!

      Thank you so much!!!!!!!!

      Liked by 1 person

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