i wonder, at what age
you became out of my reach;
i wonder, if i even
tried reaching for you

i know that history leaves its mark on everyone
(but not many have been hurt by the tracks
left behind in the dirt
like you have)

you can sit there for days, weeks, months
while we contemplate your fate,
tossing the choices in our hands
like dice

you hear the word expendable
mumbled in countless conversations
and wonder, at what age
you became in our reach

you think of the family you left behind
and hope they will find their way to tennessee
to a better life that is  
quiet. peaceful.

will they miss your selflessness;
your keen, incisive way with words;
the bumps and hills of your rough skin;
the smell of your perfume?

i miss your evergreen smile;
your poetry;
your skin against mine;
the wonder in your eyes

happily, you decompose
releasing your woes
even as they drag away your laughter

euphorically, you dissolve
losing your resolve
to live, even as your fears leave you

elatedly, you decay
your skin turns ash-grey
and maggots dig into your flesh

passionately, you molder
your recently-cremated ashes smolder
the flame devoured you with all the ferocity of a lover

joyfully, you disintegrate
forget the cold burn of hate
and misplace the memory of love, too

blissfully, you rot
lose your affinity with thought
your mind a directionless searching

delightedly, you wither
there is no time to dither
no time, full sprint to oblivion

reverently, you splinter
welcome eternal winter
relegate warmth to your fleeing memories

earnestly, you break down
your will is to drown
all your issues are a rising sea

fervently, you fall apart
you thought you were so smart
with death comes release, no?

h.f.m.