dancing with discolored dust particles we float around this empty house light on my toes; hardwood whines from uneven lines striking as much balance as i can flashes won't surrender these images intently weigh the moments down flattened against the bitter boards why can't i seem to synthesize or cope with this acidic atmosphere this house is falling to the earth fingertips, losing oxygen lifting up in echoes of sirens a new era, a new birth the yellow color -- we found what hurts black and lace circling worry lines collected upon my face polluted pupils gazing in my direction pairs at once with no escape zephyr with strength; assaulting the smile that once graced this face we float around this empty place i don't feel your presence i don't feel anything, but lost with absence of breath - comes a cost passing the bill around, this weighted check eyes dart the floor or the ceiling the healing process leaving us restless and broke when i grabbed your cold leg i was praying for jokes i can't seem to synthesize or cope with this acidic atmosphere this house is falling to the earth fingertips, losing oxygen lifting up in echoes of sirens a new era, a new birth the yellow color-- we found what hurts.
This is the first poem about my mother's death, April 18th 2014. It was also the first thing I was able to write after the day I found her deceased. One of the worst cases of writers' block I've ever had. So many emotions, and no paper to escape onto... This poem is very close to me because it was a great sense of relief and sanity. I felt a weight literally lift as I finished. Writing is crazy.