deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ever, As In Never
the sickness (of death, of course)
renews
it's strength, it's
dispassionate power,
parallel to the
light pale called day.
repeatedly reminding that
she is dead
she is dead
yOur chylde is
dead.
(this end has fucked up all the beginnings I ever knew)
As was hers, my life'body must be put away and burned
put away and burned
put away and burned
never to been seen nor heard, ever
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
2018dkzkPoomsOfChyldeDeath photoBYdkzk
Published 28th Jul 2018
Author's Note
Leah Marie Kozak 1987-2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
28th Jul 2018 8:11pm
28th Jul 2018 10:17pm
Every thing aches, hurts, pains, chokes like ne'er before.
Seeing a sweet supportive therapist once a week is better'n nothing, but..........knowing she's gone FOREVER from this life compounds the loneliness of this whole 21st century unspeakably.
I love you, ms Bomb
Seeing a sweet supportive therapist once a week is better'n nothing, but..........knowing she's gone FOREVER from this life compounds the loneliness of this whole 21st century unspeakably.
I love you, ms Bomb
28th Jul 2018 10:45pm
So glad you're getting help, I'm thoroughly convinced we all need therapy regularly, even if we don't traverse something of this magnitude. I wish I had more to give than quiet empathy.
