If I could have lobbied the gods for you to stay,I would have sunk to my knees.Asked them to choose any price.Diamonds and gold and dignity forjust one change: all the times I was too tired,too impatient,turn them to kindness. And if their glacial eyes did not seem too shocked, I would add,let me remember to…
Tag: prose poetry
Our Father
CW: Medical stuff. Grief: a universal language, and yet when spoken, nobody speaks back. A silence that echoes, and who to hear if one is without faith? Aimless prayers and purple knees, the concrete floor is cold, the silence is colder. Nobody is listening, but I’m not ready to stand up just yet. Odours of…