Drifting

I tied a balloon to my heart,
  and watched it float away
up up up
( 1416 days since your suicide )
  heading off towards Cheyenne,
( where you were a girl )
  slowly, foolishly drifting you down.

As you left, so have I,
  Like a figure cut from a picture,
  and poorly pasted back.
Among/upon the picture,
 but no longer, of it.

I shall put a smile over the hole it left,
  and stoically wait out this body,
  cueing up an "I'm OK"
  to club those who ask.
Hoping to not be damned
  with too many decades.

Because, I have learned you 
  have not left me.
Every time I work at higher math,
every time I focus on science,
every time I revisit the place
we worked together, 

there you are. 
 
And the hole my heart left 
turns cold and numb,
and I descend into (hidden) tears
and crumble into despair.

A logic bomb to blow a hole
  in my head, 
to match the one in my chest.

Love ties us together, 
  and draws me after you.

Wait up, dear.

soulmatesuicideprose poetry

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