he coughs
          the walls shake
          the stress in one
          second is enough
          to ****
          but we feel it all
          of every day.


when i was younger
and less empty
he told me
about the autumn
leaves changing
and that there is beauty
in death because
it is life
but i can't apply  that
to anything but
******* leaves.
not now at least,
as the hole in his chest
can only be
filled with a clock
that talks away
whatever is left.

i am sorry
i haven't been stronger
than your pain.