It is not that I feel mere sadness,
but more, a subtle sinking sense
of energy and of hope.
Maybe because I was
unprepared to say farewell,
maybe because the day was grey
and tonight’s gentle sunset
escaped my weary notice.
I don’t know what this silence
is doing for my sanity, save for
creating circles of uncertainty.
This is where questions of why
drive gaping holes
through my ever-searching mind,
and press in from all sides
with such comfortless force.
When all I wish is to be warm,
an icy breeze plays daydreams
across my anxious heart,
reminding me to let things go.
I loathe the sight of a departing back,
fading into distance, pacing the pain.
Retreating footsteps taste harshly bitter
like juice in a cup left from yesterday.
A slender moment weighs next to nothing
in comparison to the memories it stirs up
and slowly simmers on high to attain
an opaque sludge of eternal melancholy.
I thought that this kind of thinking
would bring me down all night.
But now I realize that it’s all right
to feel a twinge of disappointment
when it’s time to say good-bye.
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