At late it settles in
At late it settles in, The feeling of your cold skin. You, pale, reach for my hand. I shake crying, wondering if that's you 6 feet under, and I try but I don't understand. Only Wednesday we last spoke, The cue, For a blossoming friendship that awoke, alive. I keep thinking I could've saved you, Like I saved myself, It'll be a hundred times, reaching for silver tongues on a shelf, You learn to have bled by not bleeding, Stopped pain from not feeding. I'll leave this year, Because it's impossible to stay when the thought of your dead body still lingers near. At night it settles in, When I move my black and white jacket from the rack, It's s hoved at the back of the drawer Because every time I catch it with the corner of my eye It reminds me of your hair and face, more and more. For my writer friend. 11/11/2015 "Are you alright, by the way. Sorry I didn't ask before, I didn't want to pry into your personal life."...