Friday, August 10, 2018

We will never be of the same age again

I always felt like
I was going to die 
young;
yet, as years go by,
I'm slowly losing this bet
I've made against myself. 

So here I am 
living - 
still doing things for the first time
like eating sushi,
meeting people,
new places
&
every time
I live something for the first time
I think of you
and how your list
of first things
is never going to grow out
to be more than it was
last november.

The first bite of cake I had
after you died 
was the worst.
Enjoying
the small things
while going on living
felt unfair
to you,
but month after month
I learned to let go
of the guilt.

I've folded the memory of you
and hid it in my heart -
I often take it out
and leave it in the sun
to make sure the dust
won't settle on it.
You're still here,
even though you're not.

You told me
you liked my poems,
I'm sorry this had to be
the one written about you.

Written today while waiting in a hallway. It took me months to finally be able to write these feelings down. I'm sorry. 

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