A setting sun
But I can’t see
A rising moon
But I can’t see
I’m alone
In this dark room
There are
No doors
There are
No windows
And I can’t remember
If my eyes are open
Or if they’re still closed
And I guess one day
It just stopped mattering
The world just fades
When you’re alone
In this dark room

Of all the things
That break us
I think maybe the worst
Are the almost’s

Those words
You almost spoke
Her heart
That almost fell
Your heart
You almost gave
That love
That almost was
The life
You almost had

How many almost’s
Can we endure
How many almost’s
Before we break
Beyond repair
How many nights
Must we wonder
What almost
Might have been

It isn’t that
I want to die
It isn’t that
I want to live
And I guess that
Is the issue
It’s simply that
I exist
It’s simply that
I survive
This day passes
Into the next
I don’t know that
I feel too much
I don’t know that
I feel too little
I float along here
In some kind of limbo

I’m not sure
Which is stronger
The tidal pull of her
An unending ache

Or darkness’s gravity
Dragging me
Into my own abyss

And too many nights
I lay awake wondering
If they aren’t the same

Life
For some
It is a battle
One
That cannot
Be won
It is a war
Waged within
Fighting
Personal demons
That sometimes
Win

This week, a friend of mine that I have known for nearly 35 years, who is like family to me, lost his son. His heart is laid bare and shattered into a million pieces that will never be able to be picked up.

And all I can do is stand there. Cry with him. Remember with him. Listen to him. And sit quietly with him.