Sta.sh
in the shadows of every corner
he l i n g e r s
with his frail bony fingers
beckoning you his way
down
down
down
into the madness
and the fire.
surrender to the delight of the
temptation, destruction and seduction
of the ugly and the only universal
truth.
our fear turns to pity
when we catch a glimpse of the
man who collects lives for a living.
our encounter is brief -
we met as i witnessed
the life
leave behind my father's eyes.
a new kind of fear is born;
not one of living
nor of dying.
it is a fear of deep grief
that you can feel in the
marrow of your bones,
burrowed away behind broken smiles.
my bones have become so heavy
that it hurts to move
yet
stillness invites
a throbbing, aching sensation.
grief is always there
deep down in my bones
grinding my body thin.
sweet death and merciless grief,
what kind of love could lick my wounds clean
and guide me back home?
are these not the same walls i woke up in
last year?
i'm so far away and so far gone...
i fear death as i fear my own bones.
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