Yes I
woke up one morning.

I smiled and thought about your eyes
how you would always be the one
and how
I'd left you messages
to hear on your walk home.

... Later that day I paced and heard
my echoes off the painted walls...

I just don't think we chronicle
the hardest things we've understood
until we've conquered worse-

My pages are all empty
but for anecdotes and summaries
like one could ever "summarize"
a death that ends in birth.

And when you said you couldn't give
and give to me your fullest,
I asked, in pencil, on the lefthand side
if you thought that you still loved me.

Trite- except
You told me yes
and though I reeled with sorrow,
wracked with joy

I know
despite myself, I thought
a small and hollow


"How?"

06/02/2006

Posted on 06/02/2006
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