I only write death poems

by nourayasmine   May 14, 2020

On your grave, today, there was
a sun ray that wouldn't leave.

I often grieved
in unfamiliar ways.
Timid ways.
I dug graves for
your words, and stitched
the part of my heart
that hurts for you
with yarns of a new life.

But memories float
to the surface
in roundabout ways.
Unanticipated ways.
They dug out your words,
and ripped my heart open.

So I listened to you today.
You sounded like a
breeze that slipped away from
a distant universe.
For the first time in a long time,
you were there to touch
my tears with your thumb and
wipe them away. You were
there to cradle my heart,
until it stopped hurting

then stitch it close again.


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