Echo

I am full of things left unsaid,
Things left unsaid even as we exhausted everything we could say
So full am I to the brim with unspoken words
That I can barely eat or keep in another secret or word

I am full of poems unwritten for my love
I pace myself for I bleed with each word that I sculpt
If I tug too hard, I might tug out my heart itself
Who then will wipe this blood off the marble floor, splattered and spilled

I beseech you, pause, hear my echo in the times past
Move not ahead, to listen to another song just yet
Or remember too, my fingers on your skin tracing the word, “mine”
Kill the love if you must, but let the tenderness stay

I hold up and I hold on, to what, I am not sure
I just know this suffering is your gift, and all your gifts are dear
Your touch of a healer, still I am broken and maimed
For your hand tender, strike with surgical precision and primal fear

Look how things changed, it’s only this heart, refuses to capitulate
If I cry out in hurt, or in anguish, know that I cry out your name
Leave, leave if you must, rake each memory we made
Just remember the love I gave, it is yours forever, to throw or take

And when autumn seethes, know that I die beautifully too
In death delirium, I inscribe each instance of your love
And the smell of your still wafts in the air inside my lungs
The ghost of me begs, please don’t forget, me or the love we shared