in loving memory: a poem

time doesn't heal it deceives, that rascal- ah deception, what a world of sun dances and sins, holding those who dare to dream by their necks, its prisoners. drunk on this pain, the howls of my mind beyond my ending haunt me- from six feet under my permanent walls, honoured with stone and sorrow. ashes- ashes of simply what could've been. wine-stained over my spotless skin carrying emblems of where it's been and broken. i wished you'd stay. i wish you'd stayed. gone straight for the bones and cracked them like your knuckles and played them like dice. still frail, i would've fancied every twitch of your eye and every tip of your fingers. but oh well, we gather here now, dressed in ember for what could've been, in loving memory of what could've been.

love,

A