Your journey splits into branches
Upon a dirt path of nurtured soil
Where your roots once grew.
Some live and others have passed,
Whether completely buried among a thriving colony
Or still visible, but pitiful.
Your trunk is large and round
But all the details are what make you unique;
The bike it grew through,
The swing bolted to your childhood,
The pests of society crawling all over you.

Your leaves are brown.
All you can remember is her name and yours.
And as time goes on,
I wonder which leaf will fall first.

Your possessions, extinct
Your presence, absent
My heart, shriveled
My life, wounded
Our time, finished
Our love, broken

Keys trigger non-permanent feelings
Erasable, unlike the time you've spent
While I type the time I've been meaning to have
Sitting at a desk in a place where I'm drowning
Amidst the lines of media

I do miss you, it's true.

I can't pull myself together.
The situation's kinda dire
And there's no substance
For mending broken hearts
Assuming you could
Even reach that far inside me
Just to see the shade
Match that of a smoker's lungs
And realize a deal with the devil
Is not one you want to break.

I do miss you, it's true,
But I miss us too
And spite destroys the user
Before it even takes its toll
On the corrupted angel's halo
And the being contained within.

Farewell.

I slowly begin to disappear as your memory fades, slowly.

The wrath of the rain pelts his leather skin
Helmet on the barren seat left of him
Grabbing a breath from the local diner
While his worn partner suffers
Shut out in the cold; off.

One life's learnings distilled into a book,
The offsetting chartreuse cover
Covered with dust of decades
I seem to have forgotten
Due to my life's coming to a close.
I read the last page, hands filthy
Then drown in a final cleansing
And purification of my life.
The pages detach and evaporate;
The cover floats to a new shore
With its new sky blue hue
And human to master it.