There is no simple way to hurt.
The real damage is dammed, disrupted.
:Inaudible:
We must change
This ending in every way.
Disease is physiological death,
Loneliness is a social one,
Where the old We collapses like a lung.
Some days, we just need a place
Where we can bleed in peace.
Our only word for this is
Poem.
There is no right way to say
How we have missed one another.
Some traumas flood past the body,
An ache unbordered by bone.
When we shift toward a kindred soul,
It is with the cut of all our lives.
Perhaps pain is like a name,
Made to sing just for you.
We issue an apology
From our warbling palms:
We are still hurt,
But for now, we no longer hurt
One another.
There is no meek way to mend.
You must ruin us carefully.