introspectivity. a poetry collection

𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

dewdrops of daylight

scatter in my eyes

my pearly tears reflecting 

in the vexatious golden sun

an old but familiar tune

"he stopped loving her today"

hums in my head

but all it reminds me of is you

silent nighttime cries

ease my clouded mind

soft violin fades into black

while I sit and reminisce

several snow-dipped roses

lay atop an oaken casket

they look humble, quite like you,

yet I've never felt more broken

although I was distraught,

I penned a eulogy with our memories

because it's all I knew I could do

to help you rest in peace 

don't fret, I will remember you

and visit you twice a year

you didn't live that close to me,

and I regret that I can't mourn there

you made your shadow on the ground,

gone without a sound,

lost, but never found

every anecdote now seems more profound

I've tried to fill the void

but nothing lasts forever,

just like those white roses

and your George Jones cassettes

. . .

it has been three months

since you became an angel

it has been two days

since your passing felt most painful

when I heard that song on the radio,

that old but familiar tune,

I broke down and I realized

that I still miss you

and I always will.