Every day, it rose and grew,
but now this pain will never pass
and I face burying you.
Iíve never found it in myself to speak outright,
yet I break my heart in trying,
reminded that the words are too late.
Iíve submitted myself to uncertainties,
feeling to blame and forlorn,
tear off my smile, it's long tired and worn,
with my heart burnt out, I'm charred to the bone.
I see your face transcendent in cruel light,
beautiful and drained,
lust and disgust grip my mind
to see your shell-less body inebriated,
by the monster that rendered you blind.
I reach for you with my hand, and drop it,
you lie as alien to me and cold as your tomb,
Iím left with my hate-child blooming within,
kicking me, cursing me from the womb.
I finger the poems that testified your inexistence,
I wish I couldíve shown you some of mine,
the only way to unlock my voice
and free it from the inhibitions of my mind.
Your every word stabs through to the bone,
with words still alive with me, yet dead to the world,
and at that moment, I finally knew.
Dismay cut through me like a knife,
and I hated myself for not admitting it sooner,
for perhaps I couldíve saved your ill-starred life,
I suppose I took the time we had left for granted,
and now Iíve paid your ferryman with my spirit.