If I could love
the limping
ugly
afraid
part of me
That I drag through the mud
and thorns

If I could let
the transparent
clawing
screaming
silhouette speak
Instead of kicking it
into the basement

If I could put
my deepest human essence
onto paper
for everyone to see

Then.
Then, I could be free.

I suppose there will always be a part of me that will wait for you in doorways
Stepping over the threshold
Hesitating
Contemplating
Looking back
Then moving forward
Each time the pause becoming less
Underneath the stairwells of bookstores

I will search for your face in the crowds
And for your footsteps along the shorelines
I will feel your presence in places we used to visit
Perhaps this may never stop

For you were woven into my life as a piece of the fabric
A part of who I was
A force in who I was going to be
You were a friend that I expected for always
Someone to grow alongside myself

But then you turned your head and shut your eyes
Seduced by the promise of a remedy for your lovelessness
A body to temper the loneliness
Leaving me to search for your face through caverns of fog
And wondering why I am so often a second thought for you

I used to be angry
But that potency is fading with time
And someday you will be a memory

Yet in this subsiding bitterness I shall keep your secrets safe
The secrets that drip from your lips and waver in your eyes
You are different than me though, love
And I shall find peace in the comfort that mine were never yours to know

I dealt death today.

I know it’s a part of the job.
I know I’ve seen it too many times to count.
But today,
I felt it.

I left the room long after their family did.
There was no where I could go
To escape their

Roaring grief.

They were long gone.
And I was left with their precious baby.
I curled his arms and legs up
Closed his eyes
Wrapped him up gently.
With love and respect
Here he’ll sleep forever.

And oh,
They are so thankful,
That it was me
That I understood
That I was so careful
That I spent the time with them.

And you’re not supposed to take it with you.
You’re supposed to leave it
When they walk out the door
With one less goodbye.

But I took it with me today.

The way they felt before
The way they felt after
The long quiet goodbyes
The man in a suit on his knees weeping
The mother and son making a cocoon
Sheltering their dying baby.
The solemn face of the woman who plays god.
The green death.
The last breath.
The heaving of the living as he gave his last.
The waiting.
Slower rhythm.
Quieter.
‘He’s gone now’.

I watched the clock
The same way I had
An hour before
Waiting for death.

Soon as I could
I fled out the door
Ran into the street
Tried to outrun it

Instead I ran to you
I dialled your number
With shaking hands

I know I’m not supposed to
But all I wanted was you
Your voice

Ringing out
Thankfully
I wept alone.

Today I dealt death
And I found I am not strong enough
To sustain this
Alone
Or for long.

I found I still consider you my haven
Deep down
But that you are not my haven anymore
Or should be.

I listened to the silence
After the call rang out
And decided

"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."

You have to capture it
While its still alive
This unspoken poetry
That lives inside of me

Untamed
Unrestrained

I want to see you
Nestle it like a
Newborn baby
Wrap it around your tongue
And taste it

After it escapes to enter the pen
From digestion
To clocked
It aides us all
Birth your §oul to me