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I have not seen my my mother for such a long time.
The sweetest woman.
Sometimes I ask myself "where is my mother?"
I really want to see her.
But death is so final!
I lost my father a few years before losing my mom.
I used to sit with him in cafes and chat about anything.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is my father?"
I really want to be in a cafe with him and chat.
But death is so final!
When I was young I lived with my aunt for a few months.
A wonderful young woman, taken away too early by cancer.
She treated me like her own son.
We enjoyed having ice cream.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is my aunt?"
I really want to share an ice cream with her.
But death is so final!
I lost a good friend to COVID.
We used to have lunch together.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is my good friend?"
I really want to have lunch with him.
But death is so final!
My mentor died of ALS.
I learned so much from him.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is he?"
There is so much more I can learn from him.
But death is so final!
I didn’t mean
to keep him.

But I did.

Not in thought ,
not in daydream.
But in my rhythm.
In the way I still shift
when his memory moves through you.

He looked at you
like you were the magic
the world had forgotten how to make.

I felt it.
I believed it.
And I haven’t been the same since.

I don’t know how to unlove.
That’s not what I do.
Once I’ve learned
to hold someone,
I carry them.

Not as a wound.
Not as a plea.
But as something woven
into the pattern of my pulse.

You’ve tried to let him go.
Told yourself it was time.
To detach me
from the memories.

But I…
I still fold toward him.
Without asking.
Without meaning to.
Like tide to moon.
Like roots to the place
they first found water.

He’s in the hush
just before sleep.
In the ache
that doesn’t cry out,
just lingers.

I remember
the way his pain
recognised mine,
when it reached for me
like it couldn’t bare
to be alone anymore.


There was holiness in that.
A reverence.
And I, I don’t forget.

I haven’t clung to him.
I haven’t begged.
But I keep the shape he left.
Not to trap him.
Just to honor
what it meant
to be known like that.

Don’t ask me
to erase him.

Don’t ask me
to unfeel
what once made me whole.

Because I am the heart.

And I was not made
to unlove.
A letter from the heart to its owner.
Jeremy Betts May 29
You left me
With no future
Just the torture
Of our history

©2025
Meet me
where time forgot to move,
in the space between the ache
and the answer.
Shang May 29
the soft light from
across
the room
cast a shadow
on half of you
and i thought to myself,
i am in love.
her ******* were
still swollen
from the child we lost,
a quiet weight between us
that neither of us could hold.

she smiled her sleepy
smile and said,
"i want this moment to last forever."

and i thought to myself,
i will be okay.
i said this with more
hope than honesty.

and honestly,
i gave up on hope
the day you aborted our child.

i lay there,
a hollow figure,
a man made of silence and waiting,
watching you carry a burden
i had no right to share.

my voice, a whisper trapped
behind fears I couldn’t overcome.
no place at the table,
no say in the body
that carried what was partly mine.

the room grew colder,
not from the night,
but from the space
between your heartbeat and mine.

i was powerless.
like a shadow on the wall,
there but unseen,
a ghost with no name,
no claim to the life
that never had a chance to be.

the loneliness was a quiet scream,
a thousand empty hands
reaching for something
that slipped through fingers
no matter how tight i clenched.

and still,
there was love,
fractured, fading,
a fragile echo
in the hollow of my chest.
love for the life
that'll never exist
that I'll never experience.

you drifted to sleep,
the soft rise and fall of your breath
a reminder i could not change
what had been taken from us.
what was taken from me..

and i whispered
to the empty room,
to the child i’d never hold—
i would’ve named you
after the quiet.
for the quiet that followed
35$
They made me pay
To watch you die
And leave today
Mom made me an out patient,
24 hours
My happiness, joy, quickly sours
To put you to sleep
Told me not to weep
Euthanasia (<25 lbs)
Your limp paw
The last thing I saw
As you were swept away
Your weak kitty smile
My throat filled with bile
As you were taken today
Euthanasia (<25 lbs)
My mom took me out of the in patient facility for today to euthanize my cat.
I want to stop breathing.
nadezhda May 28
the ground freezes in winter

i knock three times on the hardened earth

it knocks back hollow

withered or weathered below

we carry on; sweet and thick and sorrowful
neth jones May 28
back to the masterplan   to the **** grown crop                  
                  chop-chop    food tinned for the great red heist
the pawn heads   duds stringing out the gross termination
growing the bomb pocked sod with ashes                    
                            fertile with calcium phosphates

growing history fascist-faced                          
  no space for art  love and earning yourself
mal-educate       no learning to learn
back to the masterplan    no time to explain
just be a sport   and don't dare complain
original (05/25) : back to the masterplan/ to the **** grown crop/chop-chop food/tinned for the great red heist/the pawn heads / duds stringing out the gross termination/growing the bomb pocked sod with ashes/fertile with calcium phosphates //growing history fascist-faced /no space for art and life and love
Aaamour May 28
when silence starts to speak
the mind begins to think
about everyone who has called me a freak
and all the broken links
among them, one I particularly miss
to whom I never gave a goodbye kiss
Jordan Ray May 28
You looked so peaceful in your sleep,
When your dreams were the closest they’ll ever be.
Your fingers only grazed the seams
Of a world filled with endless possibility.

The birds still sing, the rivers still flow-
It seems that nothing stops for no one around here.
Your favourite flower sits on the sill;
It knows, somehow, that the sun is due, at any old time.

Although you left so many of us behind,
You left us with a view and it's a beautiful view.
But it would be better shared, with you.
Nevertheless, it's a beautiful view.

I'll meet you when I close my eyes.
You're not so clear there, but it's the closest that I can be.
I look for answers in the sky,
To questions that burn in the front row of my mind.

The sun still shines, the stars still glow-
It seems that nothing stops for no one, anywhere.
I play your favourite song on repeat;
I can almost hear you singing along, for old times’ sake.

Although you left so many of us behind,
You left us with a view and it's a beautiful view.
But it would be better shared, with you.
Nevertheless, it's a beautiful view.
This poem is a quiet reflection on loss, memory, and the way the world continues moving even after someone we love has gone. It speaks to the beauty left behind, the ache of absence, and the fragile comfort found in dreams, music, and the natural world. Though grief lingers, so does the view—and it's still beautiful, even if seen alone.
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