strange you say
how we measure grief
in years and not
by the weight of each
memory sinking to the
bottom of our guts
branding flesh that's little more
than emptiness held
together by tiny charges
curious you say
how the floor can keep us down
with the weakest force
as the pain wells up
through us and around us
but won't pull us apart
how it rises to the top
far beyond our sight
far above this nervous heap of energy
how it leaves us with the charm
of yet another arbitrary day to live
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