These cannot
be the last words we speak,
For they do
not definitively deliver the dreary
Emotions
which are bound to cast
Me into
turmoil for days or weeks…
A millennium
of moments must still exist
Or else I am
failing to acknowledge
My thinly
veiled disbelief.
The words
that have passed your lips,
Do not yet
inspire a need for comfort
Or the yearning
to retreat into my bedroom—
To curl
within a blanket to bury my face
While the sheets
dry my tears and keep me warm.
I have not
yet begun to realize the ridiculous
Nature of
human despondence,
Therefore a continued
discussion must still
Be near. Final
words do not promise
A continued
dialog or mention
The possible
occurrence of a next meeting.
A true
farewell is copacetic in the mind
Of each
member of the parting,
Because
there exists both conclusions
And
confessions—above all there is a mutual
Understanding
that a tomorrow certainly
Does not
exist. The words that have been spoken
Neither feel
as though they have brought
Resolution, nor remedy to my fleeting sanity.
So I must
believe I have yet to say goodbye
And I can
continue to live my disjoint delusion,
And awake as
if nothing has changed.
DannYetman
www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com
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