life

yes, some parts of me-
made alive by you
have died
and some are dying still

and loss digs in
the tender heart,
wont leave
and never will

but other seeds
that slept in frost
are opening
to sun, and warmth and joy

sunshine
mother of hearts everywhere
stays
her bright radiance
working magic

circumference of the heart

even still
images arise
in these moments

breathing through

pink and black shards of heart

painful, necessary

obligatory

you have dissolved
yourself
refusing all offers
untraceable
rendered invisible
your echoes becoming unrepeatable
if you existed you might be pleased
relieved
who can tell
what ghosts think
if they remember feeling
at all

I know that the living stay
caught between dawns and dusks

suns willing to rise and set

and loving moon bringing shadow

and beams of rest and reflected grey

every turn of the wheel

kaleidoscopes the known and unknown

beyond pattern

dappled 

half seen

new shards like glass cutting into fragile memory

this is the shore of our shipwrecked love
or 

simply the edge of our histories' path
maybe its the highest shape of our celestial imprint
or the end
the end
the end
of our failed faith

I climb into bed
soft scents of skin and sex meet
me, memory fresh.

today, at a time

there's something about the blue of the sky today
and the lightness of the breeze
that draws the heaviness of grief
up until it must be felt
the you shaped hole in my heart
so wide
that I cant keep hold of both sides at once
or breathe its width fully
it is a vortex today that
I have no resistance to
I am not alone
surrounded by sun and life and calm
but,
god,
I miss you with all of me
and wish you well

day 170

you might as well wish
to touch the moon just because
it once shone on you

List 3 Things That Remind Me of You

the juice you used to drink until you said it was too sweet
alcohol-free beer you started drinking at the same time you started coming home even less
driving on the road you had your car accident on, and nearly died
good music
bad music
being invited to, visiting friends in, driving near, or past or through the suburb you've moved to
coffee: takeaway coffee, home-made coffee, hipster coffee- coffee
falling asleep
menu items in random places
mutual friends and your friends

noted

There are things that I know about
surviving
that I wish I didn't.
small things,
inconsequential
things
about slicing cheese thinly
about unravelling twisted thoughts
and being held by the mattress and the wall
and
the double edge of silence.

Things that keep you for years,
until they don't.
Shades of memory from grey to black,
and hiding your breath high up in your chest
and the dissociative arts
and reading people like open books
with your hands tied behind your back.

There are things that other people know
that they shouldn't,
like
not dying when you should have
and wanting to die when you haven't
like
living in a body taken and discarded
or the many names for starvation
and the sound of the mass for the dead child,
and the sounds that are made when you kill something.

There is knowing
and all that comes after knowing,
and there is refusing to know,
and all that spills from not- knowing
which has never saved anybody
in the end.