poetry Short Stories Uncategorized

the night he died

i can no longer recall
the last words we shared
but it was something screamed in anger
whilst trying to force the earth
to bend to our geography

memories, blood, and paint
all turn to brown
when mixed and left alone to dry

my mind retains only one
fading recording
of his voice
a few words
he would say in the most desperate
hours of the night

“Baby, I’m tired, I need to sleep. This is not the last day that will see me loving you.”

…until it was