... a lamentable natural disaster ― no one really ever understood the uncomfortable loneliness they read, left unsaid, in the silence between the lines
Gathered words often revealed an awkward vulnerability a life tethering by a frayed thread unable to shed the skin that enfolds the dauntingly misunderstood laments
Suspended at friendless crossroads melancholy days of malignant indifference stifle the whispered thoughts, "accepting an unfinished life" evanescent as the faltering light, musing many a sleepless night
It’s as if there was always some wordless reason to never feel "good enough" to just be, unworthy to discover elusive love, cleave a labyrinth out of the darkness, okay to just let go
It’s not a weakness to be human "Tears are the heart’s traces" … he once wrote "only eyes cleansed by teardrops see clearly" heaven's rain unconditionally enlightened by love and light.
Someone said a poet died trying to make sense out of all he thought he'd given a word at a time was left behind only abandoned words remain orphaned in the drowning silence