Poems From The Peephole

The Patron Saint of Denial

**The following contains themes of animal death.

•••

The sun kisses the horizon, the sky bleeding to black.

The curiosities placed at your grave blink to life,
illuminating your memory.

I plant myself on the grass, listening to the wind as she speaks.

As you revel in your eternal sleep adorned with your crown of dirt,
I rest easier now knowing that you are safe.

But at the end of the day, my thoughts run estray,
The unfairness of it all.

Never hearing your shrill yip when I come home again.

Your wild eyes always wide with a glint of adventure.

Your pure unbridled love and loyalty.

I scream at the moon hoping she will listen to my words of grief.

I once believed you would outlive me.

You would all outlive me.

But now I know I never should have fallen for that beautiful pyrite lie.

I kissed myself with lies pretending this day would never come.

I'll never believe them again.

I will never believe in anything again.