I have so
much pain that 
if ever I 
were to speak 
of it I’d
surely drown in
my own life
it’s best then
I think that 
I not and
let it seep
into the ground 
when I’m buried 
closer to Hell
where it belongs 
than to here

I do yearn 
to be young 
if only for 
the license to 
be stupid for 
being older now 
I have the 
wisdom of age 
and the perspective 
of many failures 
oh to once 
again be dumb

What’s left sits 
on the chair
recently empty remember 
now holding up 
some dirty clothes 
and the sink
too and sheets 
all just remnants 
pieces of things 
that once were 
so very important 
but now waiting 
to be washed 
and folded and 
placed away forgotten 
pieces of you
bits of me

It’s gone 
filled in 
updated and 
not supported 
like wounds
once gaping 
now closed 
barely a 
mark of
where it
ever was 
this happens 
after that
after all 

There is a shift
that’s starting to happen 
less of a breaking 
and more a drip
a warming of cold 
there seems to be 
an interest in humanity 
one that is not 
taking root but bloom
for the seeds had
been planted before frost 
laid waste to fields 
and now the warmth 
of kindness bears fruit 
it’s on the horizon 
can you see it