In all honesty,
I don’t know what to do
now that you are gone.

I am starting life over.

Struggling with the dark
I am a child whose innocence is stolen
stumbling composure
rocks pebbles thrown in ponds 
staring blankly at the ripples

a desperate light bulb clinging
to shine 
I drive streets I know not anymore
why.


At 38 I am in infancy
I cannot recall last year
but I recall your last days
laser precision in mind’s eye
crawling into my heart to make it weep
and feel what I long not to feel,
I remain perturbed, life is questions
I cannot see beyond day’s end
I cannot sense anymore amidst jasmine 
blossoms, 
I cannot sense.

Is it wrong for me to wish
that I was taken,

instead?


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