WORDS

They ask me how I find the words,
To express sadness, passion, or rage,
Words escape me if I try to think of what to say.
But when I am living the mundane,
Words seem to find me like a lost song,
Sung in a distance but never to be heard again.

When I open a book and wander off in worlds,
Beyond words that I read,
Words spin into hearts broken,
Last breaths,
Or happy goodbyes.

I have tried to honor her through words,
Months and months on end,
Empty I find my notes and my pen.
Perhaps because no words can justify,
The pain felt when life left her eyes,
Eyes that opened and never saw me,
Labored breathing,
Trying to fight for more time with me.

5,560 labored breaths,
Birthed from a curse that will haunt me for death,
Each exhale disappearing to nothingness.
Like the words I cannot seem to find,
My words eluding me like a thief,
Hiding behind the walls of my grief.