Summer Failure
Encapsulate the music
When it's soft,
And swallow it like medicine.
Breathe the music
When it plays.
I think I know
What happened.
She died, and my days melted:
Thickly,
Quietly,
Insufficiently,
They melted,
Bleeding from the past,
Kissing each other.
Time neglected to call out;
I didn't expect it to.
What can time itself say?
It rolls by;
It's residue speaks clearly.
Give me the music,
Pluck it from the air.
I wish to fold it
Into my chest,
And to hold it there.
This poem is about:
Me