. . .

by indigosparke

For the soul that departed
To soon
If we measure by body
Your inky thoughts staining to much your white blank page
I know
I know it to well
The poison of yourself
The wish that each breath be the last
The constriction of being in your chest
The exhaustion of another sleepless night in the soggy bed made wet by too many tears shed
The voice that says just do it
And the ephemeral voices that say don’t
To thin to really feel or see or hold
Hold on
Hold on just one more breath
It might get easier tomorrow
It might get better
Tomorrow I might really feel the sun on my face and think ‘Yes this must be the place’
The place where everyone else dwells
The other side
Of being

Not today

Not today

Not today

But now
So many goodbyes you must be feeling
And them feeling
The things you always felt

A loss for something you couldn’t even put into words


At sea