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Lyra Brown Nov 2012
There is nothing more painful than hearing
The sound of your drunken tears over the phone
You said you were okay
But I didn't believe you and you knew
I didn't believe you
You asked me if I would still bring you cigarettes if you went back to detox
I said, yes of course.
It always comes down to this. I don't have to tell you what it comes down to
Because you already know.
I'll never fall again, you said.
For who? I asked.
For anyone, you answered.
I love you so much, you said.
I love you too, I said.
I'm going to go have a bath.
Okay. Goodnight.
I always wonder when it will be the last time we'll say goodbye.
Lyra Brown Nov 2012
good morning, my angel
my living lullaby
i glide across the fairest skin, you are the fairest one
of all. Good morning, my mother
my broken candle
you gave me the wax that has melted on many tablecloths
i feel I have lost you now, as I had lost you then.
Good morning, my first love
my little bridge
your mittens were warm when I needed heat
when I was so cold the tears froze onto my cheeks.
you ran me a bath a being
of divinity
we held each other in your father’s tub and laughed
at the bubbling abundance, burgeoning in overflow.
I wake to the puddle of your memory
That has grown since we last met, since I have wept
For the love I have not kept in place. Good
morning hindered lover, who worships me in forbidden light
a thousand songs have yet transpired born
from a single thought of you.
Inhibited inspiration,
camouflage constellation, I kiss you now
though I will always be
Years away from where you lie.
Good morning dear father, a forester
Braver than the lone wolf and his
solitary howl. The lesson of the arthritic toe shows you
True appreciation for the pain of existence.
You are the most loyal flame, my gratitude is overwhelming
Each time I embrace the past and the mistakes, unconscious
From the broken record
And its echo off the wall.
Good mourning to the loss of a lover, an ephemeral flame.
Good mourning to the death of a friendship, to the longing for a ****.
Good mourning to the future in its casket,
That awaits a new life for me
In song.

— The End —