I can't think of you
on days like this
when the gray mist
floats into my windows
dragging amber leaves

I can't think of
the aftermath
the way I cried
how I'll never know why
or have answers
to burning questions

All that is left
a deep burn etched
into a stone
in San Antonio

I can't remember
the sound of your voice
the cynical conversations
or the thick black
of your glasses

Days like this
I sit in the silence
between loss and innocence
flat like the rocks
we tried to skip
in the rushing water
of the spring snow melt

We're a scattered tribe
a silent sister
a brother buried deep
inside the bottle
and me, the one who
writes it all down
like suffering
formed a diamond
if that's what
we could call survival

I can't think of you
on days like this

v.k poetry
venniekocsis.com
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