Not many marriages survive the death of a child
And now you and I
All old love aside
Are buried on that mound
Just as dead as he is
Just as cold and hard
We could not survive
And all we are now
Instead of you and I
Is just another statistic

when I die

turn my body into ashes

and

spread it over the ocean

so I can go home

after a lifetime of feeling

homesick

they told me to
take it as a grain of salt.

as if the words they said
did not rub into my wound

and burn
like salt does.

so here i am,
taking it like a grain of salt
the wounds burning through my skin
while i just smile like i always do.

Sympathy
And
Empathy
To Me
Was as Confusing
As being Forced
To Spew
Fake Apologies

Knock knock.
I've been knocking on
your door
for a while now.

A question, a haunting thought,
"how long can I keep doing this?"

From a dark corner,
heard a whisper;

"that door will never open
if you have no place to
dwell inside."

My heart sank, like a rock
thrown in a lake.

I already broke my heart waiting.
I don't want to break my hand,
if I keep trying.