I need you to know
that I no longer write about you.

I AM SO ANGRY
WITH YOU
AND WITH ME
AND IT FEELS ALMOST AS THOUGH
YOU LEFT YOUR HANDS
IN MY CHEST WHEN YOU
REACHED IN
TO STEAL MY HEART
AND NOW THEY'RE ACHING
TO BE FREED
AND I CAN FEEL THEM CLAWING
INSIDE OF ME
AND I CAN FEEL THEM
REACHING UP MY THROAT
SUFFOCATING ME
REMINDING ME
THAT YOU'RE NOT HERE ANYMORE
THAT YOU WERE NEVER HERE
TO BEGIN WITH

i miss you and this is as much poetry as there is in me

Here dead we lie
Because we did not choose
To live and shame the land
From which we sprung.

Life, to be sure,
Is nothing much to lose,
But young men think it is,
And we were young.