W3: Exulansis

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Time passes, and people forget
about the wound you carry,
They suffer too, and look after their hurts
and they want to live and be merry.
No one understands just how deep
this wound was carved into your heart
because when you lost him, you lost yourself
and the world and your life came apart.
People say, yes, I lost my grandma
And it hurts, I know just how you feel;
I’m not supposed to say my pain is worse
but my pain is worse and that’s real.
Then they move on past the mourning stage
don’t want to hear about how you still cry,
people don’t know what to do with your emotions
hasn’t it been a year since your husband died?
I feel a wave of exulansis
because they cannot comprehend.
So I put my pain in a box buried deep
and pretend my heart’s on the mend.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul

Disclaimer: I know this poem states that my pain is worse than the pain others feel, but I do know this is not true. I was trying to say that it hurts when people compare their mourning to mine, because I don’t think they can understand until they lose a spouse. It truly is different. Anyway, I am doing alright and I’m grateful for all the love and support I have and still do receive. I am very blessed.

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Exulansis

n.

the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it—whether through envy or pity or mere foreignness—which allows it to drift away from the rest of your story, until it feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.

Latin exulans, exile, wanderer, derived from the Latin name of the Wandering Albatross, diomedea exulans, who spend most of their life in flight, rarely landing, going hours without even flapping their wings. The albatross is a symbol of good luck, a curse, and a burden, and sometimes all three at once. Pronounced “ek-suh-lan-sis.”

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Violet, poet of the week, gives us this challenge:
Choose a word from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and make it the title of your poem. Your poem should either use the word directly or capture the essence of its meaning. Include a direct link to the word’s page so readers can explore its definition and origin. Write in any poetic form you wish.

W3 Prompt #172: Wea’ve Written Weekly
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Published by lisaapaul

I’m a paralegal, a widow, mother and grandmother.

Published

21 thoughts on “W3: Exulansis”

  1. I try to never say that I understand anyone. I know what it is like to not be understood. I also know that everyone experiences emotions at different levels and intensities. One person’s pain may very well be stronger or “worse” than someone else’s. I’m also very familiar with exulansis. I don’t talk with people often about my mental health, because people don’t really understand it unless they, too, live with severe anxiety or depression.💛

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  3. Lisa, the poem touches on what many feel when they talk about death and loss. Well written and the emotion is there – like oil on the surface of water… You cant drink without disturbing the oil….

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  5. This was so relatable. And not because we have shared the same pain- but rather because human nature says- after an acceptable period of time we are expected to stop talking about it- stop feeling- erase that pain and move the heck on. Don’t listen. Thank you for sharing this deeply intimate portrait.

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  10. Lisa, I thought I had already commented on this one, but apparently I hadn’t. Your words here really capture that lonely space where grief keeps living even when others have moved on—I feel the weight of it.

    ~David

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