i avoid the place where you rest eternal.

your body lay there,

but not you.

patches of dry,

withered grass and that’s all.

how soon the world forgets.

your memory tears at my heart because

you died

loving me,

when i was too young and too selfish to

understand what that meant,

and because somehow,

you manifested

a conception of loyalty

that was unalterable.

they say that

time heals all,

but each night i

dream of you and i see

your face more clearly than

the night before.

each day that passes the

ache remains and

the void grows larger—

the longing for what

was lost,

before it ever was.

a wound like this consumes you,

swallows you slowly,

until you’re stuck in it—

unable to move forward,

unable to go back—

and i’m stuck for good,

because there is no cure

for a pain like this,

not even time.

[ photo: photo by Miriam Sweeney ]

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