grief in my bones

the grief that has grown roots

in my stomach winds its way

up behind my ribs with the 

intention to bruise,

and lodges in my throat

fifteen years later,

and i still can’t say your

name out loud

so i cry into shaking hands,

instead, one over my face,

the other balled into a fist

that i bite down on

under the light of a cold

moon that is closer than you

are to me, i sob out all

the breath in my lungs

and it’s been so long,

my old friend,

that i can’t remember what i

said the last time i saw you

but i wish i had said more,

sat beside you a little longer,

lingered under your smile

like it was the sun after

so long in the rain

i wish you could see

what i’ve made of myself,

the tattoo on my right shoulder

i gripped so hard while tears

soaked into my pillowcase

and when you’re still gone

in the morning, gone where i

still can’t follow to the clearing at

the end of the path

i’ll brush myself off and

continue on,

until we meet again,

my old friend