each time i see him
his hair looks more like winter
and i can tell
he's tired.
he speaks in stories
and loves
the living and the dead
as if sometimes
he doesn't notice
the difference.
he's lived through hell
battling his body
and he's smiling
and asking how i am
i don't think i can
live through the avalanche
his absence will bring
YOU ARE READING
desolation
Poesíades·o·la·tion ˌdesəˈlāSH(ə)n/ noun a state of complete emptiness or destruction. anguished misery or loneliness. just a book of my inner thoughts, feelings, and observations TRIGGER WARNING: may include eating disorders, self harm, alcoholism, suici...
