as the reflection of the trees roll off the
shined roof of the hearse I follow to the
cemetery, my mind becomes scattered
with the thoughts of our last moments.
a face so sodden,
her hand to mine, my body seized with
a contemptuous blanket of emotional
disdain. a person I loved, a person I
trusted, snatched out of my life as
fast as she changed it.
her barren body clinging on to life sent
chills up the very arms latching on
to the hospital bed, shaking, with
the thought of denial ruining every
hopeful aspect of my mind.
this
can’t
be
happening.
I stare at her urn, sitting atop her
now entirety; the quiet whispers of
the funeral priest echo about the
walls in my mind, everything is silent,
white noise consumes my thoughts,
I’m shutting down, the ringing in my
ears is slowly overtaking the cries
of the siblings, the mothers, the fathers,
the cousins, and all of the friends who’s lives she’s
truly impacted. my eyelids bare weight,
my sight is becoming dull, and the tears
are building up as the content sobs are
becoming more and more copious with
each sympathetic clutch on my shoulder.
I say my final goodbyes as we make our
way out. I whisper reverence
“I love you”
as a blind man
attempting to feel colours
i touch your urn,
that’s all I can
say for what you’ve done for me and how
you gave perspective to tunnelled vision.
the cars weep in unison departing the cemetery
with the trees spinning the roofs
after 11 shots of whiskey
and with that comes a habituated
sadness.
I slip into bed, knowing that 5 miles away
there will be an empty left bedside next to a
man whose life revolved around her, a lonely
man, a broken man. a pillow she laid her
head on not 24 hours prior, the scent of her
body; still embedded in the sheets he now
uses to wipe aside his tears,
statin sheets
enticing the walls
inward
why you?
why not me?
thoughts of abstract
painted to a pillow
eight hours i’ll lay my head stagnant;
sleep not
to the morrow i awake
and you nevermore
paradise may you rest
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
as the reflection of the trees roll off the
shined roof of the hearse I follow to the
cemetery, my mind becomes scattered
with the thoughts of our last moments.
a face so sodden,
her hand to mine, my body seized with
a contemptuous blanket of emotional
disdain. a person I loved, a person I
trusted, snatched out of my life as
fast as she changed it.
her barren body clinging on to life sent
chills up the very arms latching on
to the hospital bed, shaking, with
the thought of denial ruining every
hopeful aspect of my mind.
this
can’t
be
happening.
I stare at her urn, sitting atop her
now entirety; the quiet whispers of
the funeral priest echo about the
walls in my mind, everything is silent,
white noise consumes my thoughts,
I’m shutting down, the ringing in my
ears is slowly overtaking the cries
of the siblings, the mothers, the fathers,
the cousins, and all of the friends who’s lives she’s
truly impacted. my eyelids bare weight,
my sight is becoming dull, and the tears
are building up as the content sobs are
becoming more and more copious with
each sympathetic clutch on my shoulder.
I say my final goodbyes as we make our
way out. I whisper reverence
“I love you”
as a blind man
attempting to feel colours
i touch your urn,
that’s all I can
say for what you’ve done for me and how
you gave perspective to tunnelled vision.
the cars weep in unison departing the cemetery
with the trees spinning the roofs
after 11 shots of whiskey
and with that comes a habituated
sadness.
I slip into bed, knowing that 5 miles away
there will be an empty left bedside next to a
man whose life revolved around her, a lonely
man, a broken man. a pillow she laid her
head on not 24 hours prior, the scent of her
body; still embedded in the sheets he now
uses to wipe aside his tears,
statin sheets
enticing the walls
inward
why you?
why not me?
thoughts of abstract
painted to a pillow
eight hours i’ll lay my head stagnant;
sleep not
to the morrow i awake
and you nevermore
paradise may you rest
I miss you so much.
I love you so much.
Rest easy.
2013 seems like yesterday
and tomorrow seems like 2013
Request permission to use this poem