All new thinking is about loss.
A mother's eyes filled with tears in her room.
The freshly dug up soil and ruined grass.
The leaves that part from the tree in autumn.
Rain pours like the tears of God, his angry thunder crashing.
You always ask me, Why did it happen?
It's life, I say.
But it's not.
No one can sort it out and deal with it,
like shuffling through the deck, life's poker.
Lost in absent minded tasks, just breathe.
If everything happens for a reason
then who gets to make the decisions here?
A numbed mind and thoughtless stare,
a youth, innocence stolen, ripped away too soon.
Despair hangs over like a rain cloud,
death's shadow like smog in the air, poison. Just breathe.
Loss never really leaves us, it lives on
in the tear soaked letters, creased photos hidden
under pillows and mattresses, secret sorrows ruminate.
Emptiness clings like a sweat soaked nightmare,
the ones you can't just shake off.
Tears prick your eyes, throat achingly tight,
pain's perfectly laced corset choking you out.
All new thinking is about loss because
loss creates so much when is takes, aches, breaks
us apart, can we ever be close?
Untouchable hurt, infinitely tender wound, it creates.
We need an outlet for the confusion, anger, the despair
we just can't take away.
A little girl coloring for her lost friend,
her small words keep asking me, it hurts to hear
but even worse to say, I don't know baby sis,
I guess it was her time to fly.
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