I love you with all my bones — the heart is too ephemeral.
heart
It’s personal
there is no timetable for grieving —
grief is a snail
it’s a shooting star
a walk around the lake
it’s eternity
or frost till bloom —
memories coursing through the heart
it lasts as many heartbeats as it takes —
sometimes all of them.
Connections
Those we love and lose are always connected by heartstrings into infinity.
Fragile
Grief is looking up
to see Never
at your window —
rapping on the pane
of your heart —
Love-beats
Hating withers your heart. Hearts that don’t pump love, atrophy.
Inscribed
graves are not limited
to the cemetery —
they lurk in our minds,
and buried in our hearts
lie garlanded stones
marking loved ones lost
Whole body, whole spirit
We thank
on our knees
with folded hands
for full bellies
and fuller hearts
My heart
God completed my heart
then you finished it —
mortal combat style
Timekeeper
Grief is historian of the heart.
Winter sparks
snowflakes fall from the sky
in peppermint perfection —
i kiss you with quivering lips
but cold is not the reason —
you set my winter heart on fire
and keep me warm all season
Tempus nunquam dormit
Three A.M. is when
all the quiet things
become loud —
the drip in the sink,
that clock on the wall,
our hearts, our minds.
Water cycle
to cry is beautiful —
the beauty of one’s pain
leaving the heart
blackout poetry created from Maud Casey, The Man Who Walked Away, 2014
Away
Sometimes what gets to you most isn’t the large holes that get ripped from your heart but the fraying of its edges — when what held you together isn’t anymore.