monday blues perhaps

 

a million months ago
she died and kicked me in the
solar plexus kicking off
a twister twisting my
body and limbs and face into an
eightball of grief
that rolled off, automaton, spinned me
into a black whole
until I caved in. unknowing.
I collapsed into nothing-at-all.

my aching arms heaving me
out now. hello world.

the chemistry of love is
the chemistry of grief is
the nullity of chemistry.
implosion. end. explosion.
world. outward.

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