I reach out
                               to you -to your essence
grappling to any shred               of your memory.
                             Your smile.
         The light in              your eyes.
The tinkling of bells in
                                                                                    your laugh.
The soft rose that                     warmed all of
the        freckles on your cheeks
           when you                         blushed.
Every feature.
                                                  Faded.
Like an old picture.

Reaching and clawing through
every scene,                       every second.
                                        Every memory of you.
Time stands still              and the world is silent.
The stars hang, frozen        in their dark sky.
                                                       The universe is, and suddenly

it isn't.
My mind
                                      blinks.
My heart beats on           like a drum and
the wind                           rushes from my lungs at
                             lightspeed as
a sickening
possibility comes to mind.

                                                                                      You are nothing more than s t a r d u s t .

"You're crying again..."
"Am i?? ... sorry..."
"Stop saying sorry..."
"But i am..."
"Well don't be.. you don't need to be..... here, take this.."
"What is it?..."
"Vallium... "
"What? like .. like the Pidgeon film??"
"No you idiot that's Valliant.. this is Vallium... like the drug that stops you from shaking"
"I'm not shakein.. looks at my hands oh look.. i am, look at my hands ... ****"
"i know sighs you're whole body is shaking, i might put you in the bath with the washing, half an hour and you'd have even the whites clean"
"shut up that's not... spills drink while taking a sip true.."
"really?? take your drugs you ******.."
"you're a terrible doctor"
"good thing i'm not a doctor then.."
smiles
...
...
"Here have a tissue..."
"What for??"
"You're crying again..."

it's definitely my fault
the doubt of that is none

next time, i'll obviously act on them differently
next time though, i'll feel different

you have layers unending
so for you to not feel this as i do
is understandable
but for you to not try and understand
is regrettable
because i'm trying
admittedly, harder than anything else
guess that's why i'm struggling

I used to think about you
almost every day,
there wasn't one thing that
didn't remind me of you,
but now there's nothing that
longs to the though of us,
of your name.

It's not that I've forgotten you, but I no longer
hang by you, or your memories with me;
maybe because I've found someone
to replace you;
to forget there
was ever a thought
of you.

Wanting to be heard, with nothing to say
Old recitations to dialogue in a play
We speak, in echoes, like poetry, it rhymes
And the father of learning is repetition

What only concerns is the comfort in your reflection

Death is a comfort that doesn't exist
When you're dead, nothing really is
Nothing really is, and nothing will be