she holds close

the pain

careful not to

break it


like a hunger

she feeds it

in morning

speaking to it

at night


grieving flows


watering the

splinters of

thoughts embedded

in memories


helping her is

not easy

when the voices

attack me


I know she’s

still alive


when I hear her


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s