Heights

Stop me. Before I build a wall around me -

crumbling, failing, I am

undone. unsaved. unraveled.

The chord hung virginal - untouched - a thousand unstrung violins crying for their soul's climactic salvation.

I am pavement under the black sky

Spinning wildly into a lustful kiss. Rabid and wanting, jolting awake the feeling of simultaneous redemption, ecstasy of a possibility unlived.

I am Jack's fucked up mentor. Leading dark into darker dark. I am searching -

The song, once so loud, playing fainter and fainter until the memory - unsung, untuned like the piano grazing your fingers - crumble beneath the weight of unburdened dreams.

Tell me the dust is not forever. Please, Maestro, I can't stand permanence -

I have no language to let you go. I have no language to remember how to say

Feel me. Hello. Feel me. Hello. Feel me. Goodbye.

I am unraveling faster than I know how to say

Goodbye.

Goodbye?

Where are you now? Where are you?

I am unraveled and undone.

Hello. Feel. Me.

A forest fire rages

untamed and undone...

I was walking home and thinking about a friend who passed away. With a jolt I realized his death anniversary is any day now, and it's already been a year. I am no closer to knowing how to say goodbye. Moreover his death put me on a strange path of breaking, unburdening, healing, love and light that I have no roadmap for and that I am still learning how to navigate. If this poem makes no sense - good. It doesn't make sense to me either, but neither does loss. And that's the point.

Opening line taken from a song that's gotten me through most of this year - "I Need a Forest Fire" by James Blake ft. Bon Iver.