Embalm

The needle’s in the red.
Our love has gone to bed.
What was and wasn’t said,
Encased in laden lead.

Each one that I reach out
Weighs heavy with little amount.
Viscous dribbling towards the drain.
I call for wax but given wane.

I miss the times and days we had,
Where silence didn’t make me sad.
I guess that’s how it goes in life.
It’s up to me to take the knife.

Each tender time, a peeling scab.
Old memories really all we have.
More open words need soothing salve
From you, a barely balming dab.

Do I go on, this way unkept?
Or cut the tumor from the flesh?
I’ll feel much lighter, this I know,
But heavy heart cannot let go.

Contd.
​

7/14/24