Writing

The five stages of grief,

except nobody died.

They still flow through me

like he's gone forever,

but does it really matter?

It's not like he knows who I am.

However, he is gone,

forever,

I just watched the movie 'The Imitation Game' and I thought I would share something interesting I learned from it! :)    

my family has claimed thanksgiving.

it's our holiday, you know,

the one we do the best,

and so it must be ours. we're joking,

mostly, but it's true we do thanksgiving very well

probably overdo but it's better

I write this not out of some perceived sense of intellectual superiority, nor do I mean to write as if I have the moral high ground in this debate.

Watch, as I shall tear down the sky

reach for the stars, and burn my fingers

the world below me, silent does it lie

the stars and their burn - still lingers

lingers like lost, but not, quite lost

in my heart, hope is a quiet thing
a pulse beneath rubble
soft as breath against marble dust.

it doesn't sing
it lingers.
it waits in the cracks where sunlight pools
on mornings the mist forgets to rise.