2 am


* This poem is for someone who knows they need this.

Beginning again is also,
an end,
and I cannot bear
that final loss.

Easy to be brave in sunlight.
My heart calls me a liar.
He knows my 2 am.

Fingering my scars,
I rest my hand on your place,
your pillow.
This is the true headstone.

I long to hear your laugh
something other than
my sadness echoing
throughout the place.

Remind me again
that great pain comes
because great love
existed.

Published by B

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog. I refer to my favorite person as TMW5T Why? because if he had 6 I'd call him TMW6T, duh!!

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