Fallen Angel

When words fail us, our tears fall like rain.
Should we feel anger mingled with our pain?
When there are no answers, and right feels wrong,
The tears are the silenced words to our love song
When I remember, they play all over again.
My fallen angel!

I’m not alone hearing a love song play
With no music and no words left to say
What we have left are wishes that won’t come true
And our grief, deeper than any shade of blue
And words we wished we could have said…
My fallen angel!

No one can answer the questions we ask
But guilt never resolved chords dissonance
What’s left when there are no more words?
And she’s not here if they could be heard?
I don’t know anything left to tell
My fallen angel.

What can I say that wasn’t said before?
When I said “I love you,” I loved her more
And the tears fall, singing my love once again,
For mixed up hearts and lives. My friends
Should know love’s much deeper than pastel.
Don’t fall, my angels!

05/21/2017, Deon Mumple

I wrote a poem before about my Ulla, when I found out she had left us.  And now I’ve written this one by request because too many people fall to depression, bipolar, and other mental health difficulties.  We lost Ulla, and then we lost Johnna who wrote sweetly about how Ulla touched her, and honestly I just don’t want to lose any more of my people.  More famously, and more recently, forgive me for taking it too personally, I lost my favorite male vocalist Chris Cornell.

Sorry for being selfish, but please, all the rest of you warriors, please just don’t leave me here without you.  Ulla said “You matter.”  We need each other. And I don’t want to write any more poems in memory.  I want to write poems of celebration.  Ulla was an encourager of others, and the wish I wished the most other than my prayers for her to be healed was that I could encourage her enough, be a good enough friend, to help her and make her want to stay and keep writing, and keep fighting.  And neither were granted.  I fear for myself, and I fear for all of you.

Here is a short, beautiful tribute written about Ulla by Pieces of Bipolar, quoted by Johnna:
Blahpolar had an immense effect on my life. I doubt she even realised how much. She walked beside me on my own journey even as she carried the weight of her own demons. She said two words that redefined my life – you matter. Two simple words that changed my life. And now, I am at a loss for words. Because she mattered to me, and to you and to us. Words escape me. All I have are tears…https://painkills2.wordpress.com/2016/09/07/thinking-of-you-blahpolar/

10 thoughts on “Fallen Angel

  1. Oh dear Deon this is a touching tribute! It​ is so hard when we loose one of our own, I always feel I let them down. I pray we don’t let one more slip through our fingers and that we will check on anyone that grows silent. I know it is hard to reach out for help when we are in the midst of the storm. Thank you for this gift to Johnna, because she knows you loved her we all did. Sending hugs sweetie!🌸

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I can’t bring myself to delete the emails between me and Blah. If I keep then, then she still lives on, and I can reread them and laugh-snort and ugly cry. I never really got the chance to know Johnna well..she periodically commented on my posts. Too many lost from their demons-famous or not-they are all dear to us. Even now as I sit here at work, crying at my desk, and still struggle with the depression that has been plaguing me for 19 months and slow realization dawns that I may be med-resistant, I can’t help but think how would my friends feel if I weren’t around anymore? Or my small little family? I’ve been on auto pilot for so long, I’mm afraid to take control of my life again…but I know that with friends like you, Morgue and Mom, I can do it ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Beautiful poem, Deon. You have such a gift with words. Um… but… that was me Johhna was quoting about Ulla. And now Johnna’s gone too. The blogging world seems so far and foreign without them. Does it feel that way to you too? Like after we lost Ulla everyone scattered to the wind. It’s empty opening up wordpress and not seeing Johnna here. Not one day passes that I see the colour blue and I don’t think of her. I had grown very close to her. She was one of the most amazing women I’ve had the joy of knowing. Both our blue women are gone

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thanks for the compliment and I apologize for the unwitting misrepresentation. And you’re right, we lost Ulla and something was shattered in all of us, we lost a lot of cohesiveness. She was a brilliant and loving soul and in a way she was a thread that held us closer to each other through her. Every time we lose someone I feel like a piece of me is gone. I want to be a thread but I’m not strong, I’m not consistent enough, and her place in the tapestry is a frayed hole that we can’t repair. All I have are my tears and memories of my Ulla. They are sweet to hold, but </3

      Liked by 2 people

      1. No apology needed my friend. You have given voice to what I found so hard to phrase. A thread that held us together – I always saw her as the leader of the pack. “cohesiveness” is the word. Since Johnna died I’ve had a ‘blog-crisis’. Everytime I open reader up… she’s not there. It feels so empty. And unreal. We had become good friends and chatted everyday. For her, and her avatar, to be missing… along with Ulla… it just tears my gut right out. Within 6 months Ulla and Johnna died. The ‘blog-world’ echoes with people I’ve lost and crowds with new bloggers. Strangers I have yet to befriend. But I don’t know if blogging is healthy for me anymore because I form attachments so quickly. And then when there is loss I fall apart. But your poem is beautiful

        Liked by 3 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s