April night

Once I

Felt warmth at my back, and fell asleep

Peacefully

Thinking, in a moment of late, exhaustion-induced confusion, that it was you.

But sunlight, and morning

Broke the truth

It was only the cat, curled up at my back.

And you are still dead;

You are still dead.

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Not about me

At most, my pain diminishes me

I feel small, I feel nothing

I feel the nothing pulling me in

I know its name, its harmonies well up

They pour out of my eyes and stain my life

At best, the pain underscores the why

Without agony there is no joy.

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

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