Foreboding
Death burns
holes in my mortal heart—
I am not opposed to it
yet I detest how it looms over
everything and everyone
I love.
How I cringe
thinking about how
in this lifetime I will
face more absences,
more voids, more tears.
It is the
foreboding of
a storm—the clouds
form gradually, making
you so very alive and
so very aware—
yet you do not feel
the true impact of
the blow until
it rains.
6.14.22
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