Ten years ago today, you left us too soon, Steven Thomas Harvell. And so, little brother, I’ve written you another poem. I hope you can hear me. I can still hear you. Your imprint is indelible.
A Decade without You, A Lifetime to Go (Imprinted)
a decade without you i’ve still got my imprint that Steve-mark faded like an aging tattoo but still so legible even after a decade without you where did you go? what did you not know? why did you go? what do you now know? a decade without you i still have so many jokes only you would laugh at memories only you shared songs i can't sing sentences i can’t finish jagged poems that write themselves because of you little brother where did you go? what did you not know? why did you go? what do you now know? a decade without you i still hear you little brother our secret kid language still on my mind your voice an echo of our halcyon times i still love you little brother imperfect idealistic hilarious generous impractical selfish creative curious and uniquely you i still feel you little brother that pain you never bared those scars you never shared now part of the indelible imprint that you left when you left us a decade without you (that Steve-mark really isn’t faded at all) a decade without you where did you go? what did you not know? why did you go? what do you now know? what i hope you now know somehow what i hope you now know little brother is that i loved you i still love you i still hear you i still feel you ------- a decade without you a lifetime to go ------- imprinted ------- (that Steve-mark really isn’t faded at all) ------- a decade without you a lifetime to go ------- imprinted ------- (that Steve-mark really isn’t faded at all)
July 18, 2024 update: I shared this post today with the dVerse Poets Pub for the July 2024 “Open Links Night”, where poets can share any poem of their choosing. If you are a poet or enjoy poetry, I highly recommend this group. I have found writing to the dVerse prompts or sharing my previously-written poetry to be very, very cathartic and affirming. You can find links to all the poems shared by other poets for this July event here.
Dear Readers, if you or anyone you know is hurting, please don’t be silent. In the US, you can call 988. International suicide hotlines can be found here.
You have more of an imprint than you know.
© 2023, Glover Gardens
What a beautiful, heartfelt poem. It really touched me. You do him proud.
Thank you so much, Anabel, that really means a lot to me.
This one drew a deep sigh out of me .. such a beautiful tribute poem!
Kim those questions that we ask ourselves over and over again when a loved one takes their own life. The repetition and the raw pain each time. Condolences on the passing of your brother. It hurts to look at the photos you share.
My kid brother died 16 years ago, age 44, heart attack, many years sober but overdosing Ritalin as a result of a near fatal car wreck when he was teen, managing the mess too much on his own, wracked by depression going far back to childhood. Such a hard loss — ghost tattoo of a broken heart on my chest — but a relationship continued. I got to know him, told his story, shared his work. The absence still chills but there’s a presence too. That presence is indelible here in your poem. Thanks for sharing it and rousing the memories.
What a testimonial, Brendan, and what a heartbreaking story. This: “ghost tattoo of a broken heart on my chest” really hits home. Thank you for sharing this with me, and I can see that, as with me, your brother is always present. They are in a different form now, but will never leave us.
Heartfelt and heart-breaking, Kim. We never forget our loved ones.
Heartwarming poem and all those questions we have linger for so long after our loved ones are gone.
My heart aches for you.
“jagged poems that write themselves
because of you”💔