We-death

I lose my breath for the ways we wept

Carving our chains from the sorrows we claim

I curse my hands as they build my plans

The coffin sized for me that I lovingly heed

Each step towards my death I shriek as I grin

I cannot stop mourning even as I descend

Why do we not cease all this clamor and doubt?

I know what will save me but I grieve anyhow

We built our own tomb-traps but we gild them and stay!

filling the rooms with silver decay

Floating our corpses in gold-blood and gloom

We’re certain this death will not be the last

We’ve died so many times in the past

Advertisements

gap

Sometimes the greatest poetry…

Rage, silent storm;

Is the absence of any.

The quiet, heavy ladled

Only over the story..

Power un-endowed.

You would tell, but refuse.

Respect me, or I will blow your memory like dust into the wind.

You do not deserve any acknowledgment from my breath.

Part

It took a while, but I realized

You’ll never be gone. Not one ounce

Of your spirit, or joy, or love

Has vanished from my life. Not one

Single molecule

Of your presence

Has left my side.

I know who you were, and who you made me, and how you kept the loneliness at bay for so many

Many

Years.

It’s accepting now

That I can never truly lose you

That will let the healing begin.

Someday I’ll see you again

quiet

Usually, there is cold.

Ice and deftness, dexterity and chill.

But when the slow-deep comes, the fire

Lights in her hands. The warmth spreads

Through her veins

And cradles her heart. It squeezes

Like a vest, like a binding

The current carries her away.

She flickers out for a time

And the warmth

Stays; the tongues of flame

Lighting their own way.