Friday, August 9, 2013

an inch away from weeping.

You wanted to be cremated so we cremated you and you wanted an adventure
         so I ran          and I knew you wouldn't catch me.
You are a fever I am learning to live with, and everything is happening
         at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.

I woke up in the morning and I didn't want anything, didn't do anything,
         couldn't do it anyway,
just lay there listening to the blood rush through me and it never made
         any sense, anything.

And I can't eat, can't sleep, can't sit still or fix things and I wake up and I
wake up and you're still dead.
—Richard Siken