Day 603: Hollow

I want nothing to do with this world,
if it ever become a world without music.
It's the only way,
the only way
I
can still
hear you.




I am sitting.
With the best of these memories,
full to my brim
Like water ready to leak over
I am filled
I am full
Memories of you.
Cascades like waterfalls,
love floweth,
but here I sit.
Letting each memory wash over me,
as if to clean my skin.
My filthy, dirty skin.

People walking in and out
of my life,
like the swinging doors
in an old West saloon.
I am here,
same as before
sipping on my whiskey
at the bar.
Same as before.
No one yet
having made the same
impression as you.
Like a hand print over my heart,
I haven't met anyone else
quite like you.

Who knows where we go,
when we die.
I make assumptions
because I can't bear the thought
of you
with an end.
I want you to be in a place
that uplifts your soul.

Pressing fingers into closed eyes,
I crush the tears out the sides.
They run softly down my face,
leaving traces of hundreds that came before them,
thousands really,
for a life without tears
is probably a life without love,
without smiles,
laughter,
and joy.
I'll take those tears,
if it means that a year or two before,
we sat in my kitchen laughing
while trying so hard
to make the topping for that pie.

I wish more people got to know you,
I wish I could have climbed with you out west,
Rs
RS
rs
I miss you, old friend.

Today I am sitting.
I am not running.
I am not climbing.
I am not extending my body in directions
it is not yet ready to go.
My heart
on lockdown
after you were gone.
Don't ask me why,
you, I know,
would tell me to share my love,
and not hold back,
but my heart is on lockdown today.
I am a stone
or a stone's throw
away from falling.

What happens if this happens again?
I have a healthy relationship
with loss.
Which means that I can see that loss is
inevitable,
I understand that
death
means only that I can't call you,
I can't touch your beard,
I can't hear your laughter,
I can't make pies by your side.
But you are still in my heart.
Like a lover who
you've moved on from
and moved away from,
and only their face sometimes
drift into your mind,
across space and time
to torture you.
or rather, me.
You
were never my lover.
You never touched my skin
in that way.
You protected the sanctity of
your faith
and my space.
But my love for you
knew no bounds.

So here I am now
in any place.
where the overcast weather
reminds me of the loves I used to feel.
I am here like the tide,
silently bearing your cross every day,
carrying it around with me
a weight on my back.
Not that I
would have it any other way.

It has been
2 months and 4 days.
And I feel the same.
The same as when the news
of your
disappearance
fell into my lap.
I was listening to music.
A song that you would have loved.
Maybe you did.
I couldn't help thinking the
worst.
And when I drove home
and
swing low, sweet chariot
came drifting out my lips,
i knew
I Knew.
It was impossible
to deny
that your music
had grown quiet.
And yet I could still hear it.

it's been 2 months and 4 days
and i still feel pain,
pain
at the lack of your face,
your smile no longer
for this world to see.
for me to see.
i still feel pain.
but
i still hear your songs
and
they still speak to me.
And it's not much,
but it
is everything i have.


Miss you every day, my friend. It doesn't get easier, I just have grown more accustomed to accepting that this is how things are now. Love you always rs.