Waking In the Mourning

To You—My Lamented Friend:

Your place in this world was always in my heart—

Though now, too, it’s often in my mind—

I’m sorry if this is the first you’ve known.

My neglect was never meant to exist…

I’m sorry for its passion.

I thought I saw your spirited flame,

But I only saw how you weathered agony.

It’s not like you to not be here,

But I understand.

I wish I could, just for tonight,

Know the peace you live in now.

The truth that haunts me:

I don’t know that I’d cling to life

If I weren’t clinging to love.

It’s the truth I know the most.

There’s this girl that I’ve met

(I know she’d like you)

And I often feel what is said to be happy.

Other moments, my mind is a scary place to be,

And my soul is enthralled in a torpor…

What we were told:

Pain is in the undertones of pleasure

And should be enjoyed equally.

But some of us don’t worship agony—

Nor suppression, nor despair—

And can’t stand it anymore…

Life was never meant to feel this way.

It’s hard for some to accept

but torment is not an expression of love,

Nor is it an appendage of it—

I guess some will never accept that.

Time is the cruel agent of death,

But it seems he’s not the only one.

What worth is life,

When the living don’t belong?

To You—A Friend I Love:

I know you tried—you really tried—

So I’ll keep trying.