(Always a Stranger is the first of five we will be running by Fabrice Poussin this week. Dale is by far a better judge of poetry than I am, but I think just about anyone will see the quality in this poet’s writings–Leila)
I feel the crushing weight of all those lives
foreign to me, and I know they do not understand
the pain mine, factor that seems to define my existence.
I think of those who may have loved me once, who perhaps
care for me a little today, but they move on without looking back
they have their own lives to live, and I stay frozen as a statue.
I cannot fathom the immensity of this punishment,
a continued torture that ravages my body and soul
for decades, I have been condemned to aloneness.
To realize that I cannot be another adds to the yoke
as I am so thoroughly trapped in a life I am beginning to abhor
useless, ugly, unwanted, will it not end today?
Fabrice Poussin
