The Density of Truth & Color

It is all I can do
to hope
and to wish
that this is the instigator

the end of the end

it is only a dull ache
that sets apart my chest from my body
soothed only
by the clear ringing circles of laughter

I can regurgitate the shoulder-kisses and
that fabric-softner smell
but the black stuff that sticks

God, does it get me every time

can come in a whiff
or the gleam of an eye
the awkward-posture of an adolescent
the padding of small feet

And oh lord, can it hurt
shove something sharp down my throat
hurts like a bitch but I

I

I am here

There's no sharp stick and I'm still alive

I respire
just as I did five months ago

same feet
same hands
same eyes
same skin

I can cough myself up
chew on my fingerbones
spit out my teeth

and the taste
the flavor
it remains

and it always will

but the sun will still set
the rain will come & go
I will ache
I will gnaw on oblivion

but till then

I am free