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Your death hurts different

4/26/2020

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Your death hurts different from the friends I've lost
to misunderstanding, to unmet expectation, to lust
I feel scraped clean by the butter knife of grief 
a used-up jar searching for closure, something to fill 
all the echo and past tense inside 
Maybe this is what they call resignation, this kind of 
loose-limbed falling 
But the living haunts me like acid aftertaste
a bite mark that won't stop bloodying my tongue
every word betrays the drowning I'm doing
How do I mourn you well when I'm still regretting 
all the funerals I will not attend for people who I love 
​and love me not?
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Kristine Cinate
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  • Hey
  • About
  • Poetry
    • Poemblogs >
      • Adulthood Starts Today
      • National Poetry Writing Month - 2019
      • National Poetry Writing Month - 2018
      • Storytelling & Storylistening
      • National Poetry Writing Month - 2017
      • Kentucky Collection
      • National Poetry Writing Month - 2016
    • Spoken Word
  • Voiceovers
  • Gallery
  • Contact Me