Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

On My Chest

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Today I feel beaten
I feel heavy in my thoughts
today I feel sadness
coloured glass that was my salvation
all those days and nights in the city basement apt
their colour and brightness offered hope
the sliver of light from the crypt
only reminds me of despair
I may have to repack them till I feel differently
It has been 8 years and 77 days from that white blizzard night
the night he fell and our world changed forever
People  mean well and friends want what is best for me
but please don’t tell me that I will find love
these words do not give me hope  it does the opposite
I can not survive another love
perfect was not what we were after
perfect is a story book tale
that is destined to fail
we  laughed and said we had compatible neurosis
days like this we would lie next to each other
we would feel safe in our love
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Author: ilovecloudstoo

I live in Canada though​ I was not born here. Newfoundland is where my heart breathes. Primarily I am a visual artist, welded and or cast bronze sculptures. Sylvia Plath may have been the seed planted in me that is creating poetry. Since then I have read so many great modern poets work. Art is my sustaining business poetry sustains my soul.

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