what an odd feeling
locking inside
the wife and children
that used to be mine


cold (revised)

shivers on cold sheets
the winter wind
or the ache within
the space beside empty
she warns of the fire
consuming as it rips
to welcome that death
with a kiss
if for a moment
the cold would abate
emptiness overwhelms
no tears left to run
how can this be
what was meant




i wish i could answer
how much time
was the right time
to be apart
i wish i could judge
(and less myself)
between being alone
and being forgotten
that’s part of the
that makes me who
i am
and why we need to
take things
after hearing the opera
it’s hard to hear
the silence
after feeling sunlight
it’s all the more
so cold
questions that i ponder
in the space between
you and i

image (CC)