Elegy

 How do I forgive myself

For letting a part of me die?

Where will I go to search 

For all the love she needed?

What should I say to the one 

That still hopes with an aching heart?

How can I tell you what I am?

Someone who write eulogies

For the living

And heartfelt confessions to 

Graves of people's pasts.

I am the epitome of mindful regret,

It doesn't assault me on a calm evening,

Instead we go out for a cup of coffee

And cry in each other's arm

until I fall asleep.

O darling! Keep your hopes high,

I'd crawl on my knees 

And ask you to live for the both of us.

I grasp handfuls of dirt 

To throw on my own grave.

Dirt filled with the poems I never wrote,

With the people I never loved,

With pieces of life that declared 

Its own death.