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Ceaseless obsession to break through
Passionate to see, hear, find, know you
To have a breath escape the cold hard stone
Insatiable longing that won’t be left alone
Won’t waste away and fade with time
This sweet addictive poison in the mind
Will not, cannot fade or find
An antidote, a palliative or final death
To ease this panting, gasping breath
Fool I am, more fool with age
When heart won’t hear of logic sage
But rages on irrationally
Inventing dreams, a fantasy
Where you, unknown since long ago
Emerge, recapturing our dormant glow
The sense in me yells, “NO! No! no.”
Foolish heart to dream the ludicrous!
When no path exists for the two of us.
Now hammered, torn and shattered
Shriveled, dry, and battered
A little heart in one last hopeful sigh
Timidly seeks that long-desired reply,
Thwarted, then slinks into her cave to cry.
Once you were Real, Faded, then Gone…

I have a great imagination &
I don’t feel like missing you so
I’ll play pretend…

Welcome to my life, imaginary friend!
We have a heart-load of **** to share;
it’s been so long.
Tell me of your travels...
Of those new to your life. . . the losses, too.
Share stories of your family
Tell what warms your heart
confide in me the highs and lows, the everything

Then I’ll speak of mine…but. . .

here's the thing about imaginary friends…
I cannot know of you; silence is your truth
Ridiculously I converse, one-sided…

for (imaginary) friendship's sake
rewrite
5 months effort to my 20 years
before the mask of kindness dropped

“Speak 7 positives for every negative,”
instructed he who floundered
finding single words of kindness
through my many years of grace & deference.

“was proud of you
renovating…you removed a toilet alone…”
(***?! that was circa ‘04!)
offer rejected!

just fly back to Korea already
spare me the stench of destructive sentiments
marinated in days-old garlic sweat
I’m worth more!
where’s bolt cutter?
just feeling a little bitter & cynical right now. Looks like the sun is trying to burn off the clouds & hopefully I’ll find pleasant flowers to scent some hours with optimism.  Regardless, I embrace life…even the grey.
Some gracefully accept, but not me…
I don’t want to fade, aged, unseen!
hushed, dejectedly as I shrink
‘neath the weight of another’s priorities…

where is the hand I seek
to draw me in glowing ink?
instead I’m gripped so tightly
sketched words overwriting my story
“come now, time to say ‘sorry’”
or shall my ink bottle fall
leave black stain; erase it all?
whatever may be most sane
just…let ME remain
Sad
Of course my heart would break for either:
death is death.
“code Adam” in the store today
fused my heart with his parent’s
heart beating fearfully for Wilder
age 7 in an orange shirt…
at least He was found
There was a summer…mmm, a handful of days,
then one northeastern evening…
(sorry, our history becomes a bit of a haze…
were all those memories misleading?)
I wanted to borrow & hold & treasure
through several handfuls of always forever
but the past told me, “Best leave it be”
So here I am ruminating
Messing about with a handful of words instead
(of the simplest primitive kind sometimes)
maybe it all was just in my head
memories of a love imagined
connection ne’er before fathomed
echoes of soul-deep passion…
Could it have been a mere passing?

did I mention how I dread
the empty spaces still?
I’d wished for a caring hand
and one to watch birds at the windowsill
pecking the moments to fill
Greying days with smiles and silences—Peaceful
now I’m not sure who would sit with me…
’cause no-one fits that wish you see
it’s quite a unique place
this heart-hole empty space
that the past of you once graced…
now it’s just called “The Missing”
christened with a handful of wishing
painted over with a handful of words
I’ll bring flowers tomorrow
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