I'm sitting here - a gulf between
The truth and bringing you relief,
As you tell me - another body succumbs to
The cancer in our genes,
Just like the booze, just like the nicotine,
It all wears off, runs out, to bleed into
Another casket-funeral
Render the familiar:
Elegiac trope.
...supine decay...
...fester stoic grace...
...just stay...
...a little more time...
...to convince myself
You've already died.
Ruminate on who's to blame
Pallbear your fading years
Self-deceive carrying this weight
After the sun is laid down,
I lie, inert on the wall
Shadow play the sequences,
Convince myself of their mirth;
All those sordid and austere,
So called better years,
Bleak in their afterglow,
Look worse in your dying days,
I alone am to blame,
For estranging me,
And in the face of your death,
I alone, am the one who left