Poem: Scabs

It is like a wound
Almost healed
Then I see your beautiful face
During the new month
And the scab comes off

I bleed a little more
Of the blood I share with you
The tears I shed
That I share with you

No one told me
This wound would never heal
No one warned me
I would ooze my pain now and always

They told me,
“Grief is a straight line,
Take the steps,
You’ll get over it.”

for California

They don’t know,
Grief is a snake,
Eating it’s own tail
Slowly, never ending.

I just want the scab to stay
Maybe, eventually, it will
My heart hopes
My head doubts

My head says my heart
Will ooze pain
Until the end of time.