inheritance

dying is
cold
quick
hot and slow.
or so they say.

dying is a
removal from earth,
the soul’s departure from body;
a snuff, quiet
moment in the grand scheme of things,
leaving us out in winter with
slow motion grief.

dying is
a final grade
a seal
an end to end all endings.
beautiful
ugly
brilliant and
dark.

I wonder how it is that we die
leaving behind trinkets of a past existence
while those who live
inherit our cheap collectibles
instead of wisdom.

numb

I am losing you every day
within the vague ripples of memory,
over the sharp edges of regret.
You are slipping through the shuffling
of papers and falling to the ground unnoticed.
My clumsy disposition and awkward hands
lose their grip on you.

The quiet that follows your departure
is loud, angry, insatiable. It shocks my
logical mind to believe that silence
can be this loud.

And amongst their hushed words
and worried expressions
I am alone, but looking for excuses to
be in the midst of chaos and crowds. Perhaps their exuberance
will numb my longing.
Perhaps the sounds will momentarily fill the
collapsed spaces in my heart
so I can breathe again.

Solo

The jostling on the bus in congested rush hour
renders her clumsy body at the mercy of the wheel and gravity.

She is lost amongst sweaty palms and unpleasantly loud voices,
between the bodies exiting and entering her life.

The vehicle swerves and she leans to one side;
her thoughts lack dexterity and balance.

And her knuckles are taut and white as she holds onto
the fading images of your smile.