Walking– the cold air has finally decided that it is winter
Dry and windy
I wrap myself in sadness
And breath in the sharp pain
And I stare with dry eyes
Ethan’s car. That tiny scratch by the lock
It is precious.
I do think that I am just about over cussing. At least out loud.
In my grief it seemed like an apt way to express myself…
And now after all these months, I’m ready to move on…
And so I search
for memories I lost along the street
And discarded bits of laughter
To shove into the gouges in my heart
And leaning forward with my hand at my chest
And my mouth wide open in a muted scream
Forehead wrinkled and eyes wide and unfocussed
And you don’t know the prayers I have prayed
I pound my hand down on the dash…
And you don’t know that I want to hit you hard to see
And I do think “fuck” all the time
When I see kids wasting their time and my time and fucking up their lives…
“Why the fuck are you even alive…” (a thought I keep to myself.)
I smile as I pass out papers.
And of all the stupid impotent waste
How incredibly wrong this all is.
to see… what you would do?
And you don’t know that sometimes
When the world fades to sepia
And blurs into a numbed and muffled silence
Clenching and unclenching my hands
And looking to heaven
like the dog whose owner kicked him in the ribs…
With big sorry eyes
The air is cold
And so I pull my sadness tighter
He has gone on
Gone on ahead.
On back down, into ashes.