Eamonn Hayes Poet I do not know?

Cold Dead Lips

What the hell was I thinking?
She didn't ask me here.

What the hell was I thinking?
Would this really...... get me near?

Her Mother lying there stiff, and dead in the bed,
I stand and stare past her daughter and then to the back of her head.

Watching her crying as she turns to look,
Still confused and haunted by that day at the brook.

So many years ago, but I cannot let go of the past,
Her dead mother in bed and my heart beats so fast.

I try to speak and my voice it just rips,
I walk slowly past her and plant a kiss...... on her dead mother's lips.

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Kirby Magee-Dittberner November 4, 2011 at 8:49 PM I felt this poem as I read it...I just wish I understood it better, but you let the words you needed to out, and that is what is really important. I hope you can get past this at some point, whatever it is.   -KMD