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

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741