grieve

I would do it, but the finality of it all stands in the way,

the uncertainty, the hesitation,

sometimes, I think this is the way it should be

all the time;

beyond feeling, beyond caring, beyond knowing,

beyond rewrites and perfection,

beyond judgment, beyond misery, beyond charades,

beyond lies, beyond self-delusion,

beyond love and fantasy, beyond wondering and doubt;

beyond self;

every denial demands atonement,

every question requires answer,

for every gift there is a price,

for everything worth having there is a cost;

I wish it were not so;

madness rules, darkness lights the way,

You are all that is left at the end of the day,

there are things bigger than ourselves,

beyond thinking or reason,

things that matter most,

things that define who we are,

the miles go by, the years pass,

the end is near;

soon enough,

soon enough;

this poverty has another face, another kind of soul,

quiet and alone, frightened and confused,

suicide can be so blind, nothing more than

a whisper, spitting and sputtering,

laughing and pretending;

you cannot love anyone, until you have learned

to grieve for everyone.

.

.