She said:
“I’m too tired to help.
I’m too tired to stay
In this room where you weep,
So please, just go away.”

“Find someone else to console,
The aching heart you display;
I’m too drained to help,
So please, just go away.”

“Ok, fine,” I reply.
“I’ll leave your room and let you rest.”
“I’ll let you lie here,” I sigh
“I’ll cry alone, a broken mess.”

She said to me, “I need your help
I’m sad and lonely here, so please
I know how broken you have felt,
But just forget that and help me.

I say, “No. I’m too tired to help.
I’m too tired to stay
In this room where you weep,
So turn around and go away.”

Maybe before, if you were there
If you had held me in your arms
I would soothe your pain, would care
About this thing causing you harm

But you made me too tired to help,
Made me too tired to stay
In this room where you weep,
So take your tears— and go away.

i called you
when texting felt too heavy,
too many words stuck inside.

you picked up.

i tried to hide the tears,
soft breaths breaking through,
hoping you wouldn’t hear
the weight in my voice.

and still, you stayed.

Your soul keeps returning,
even in death—like sea
remnants brought back
by restless waves...

    Grief comes like the
   sea—never done,
never dry.

Love and hatred descend
in a hierarchy, unraveling
from above—where sun
and moon once kissed,
and love began.

  The sky wrote love—
before we could name it

The womb creates the
bones so does the grave.

The flesh — is only
borrowed.