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You own this
his morning you sat in a kitchen chair
remembering the life that had led you there.
the beauty that saved you,
and gave you the gift of despair.
how the cost of lost love
made you deaf to the things that could heal you,
how it all came down to the day
when you held him as close as you could,
but his body was heavy as wood,
and it hurt you to go
but you knew he could no longer feel you.
and all of the joy in you turned to stone.
left you a specter of flesh and bone,
and you had to submit to the sadness
of staying alone.
but the anger you felt was a satellite,
and shot through the atmosphere burning bright.
left you exhausted, and softened,
too tired for spite.
and one thing led to another,
and one day followed the last,
and it all came down to the day
when he held you as close as you cared,
and your body was lighter than air,
and pure as the rain
as you emptied your pain out into the past.
and all of the joy you’d been frightened of
rose like a halo to linger above.
and you had to submit to the sweetness
of staying in love.
so open your arms to what love will give,
say thanks for the good life you’ve come to live.
for the sorrow that bows us,
and shows us the strength to forgive.