Shard#11: keep my wife’s name out your f***ing prayers

Cal W. Stannard
2 min readNov 21, 2022

None of the advice is good
Will I do more damage than my shadow would
Should have finished mine before starting hers
I’ve let us all down

I come back a stranger, a man with no past
An image without purpose, a sharp shard of glass
When I see you I know I’m suspended in air
Bound to you both, carried with me forever

A virus made your memory corrupt
Now I’m here on stage with the low lights up
Begging strangers for answers when I should be at home
I should be there with her where it’s safe

Cradling my pillow like a father with no child
All that I was; scattered, lost to the wild
How can I betray the promises made
To you, to her, to the world

Never thought you’d be the one who got away
And who’d take my child with you leaving me stray
At night I get high alone and twitch myself to sleep
Or something like it, oblivion

Brush my hair with the kangha thinking bout Roo
I’ll grow my hair out, no one cuts it but you
I don’t want them to recognise the man they see
I’m unspooling, I’m grieving myself

Staring at white walls “this is where I die”
I had it all, lost it all, gull feathers in the tide
Crying in the car squeezing my sore eyes shut
for just as long as I dare

Without you, my water — I survive a day or two
But baby is my oxygen — I’m instantly doomed
It’s only one weekend, a fortnight apart
But every step away strips me bare

So let me go now
Just let me go

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Cal W. Stannard

I write short stories, lyrics without songs, talk about music and mental health and share photography. “I speak that ugly elegant”