Someday

Someday I won't be here 
and I'll exist only in your 
memory. 

You'll be here, surviving, 
picking up the pieces 
of everything I left behind. 

You'll remain stoic, 
with your head held high, 
as you remind yourself 
to stay strong. 

You'll be sad as grief 
dehisces your delicate wounds 
each time they begin to close. 

But eventually you'll move on, 
and that'll be okay... 

Knowing we'll meet again 
in the end someday. 

Insomnia

You may ask me why I'm tired all the time 
and I'll tell you this... 

It's the restless thoughts 
and pointless repetitions. 

It's the endless worries 
and racing questions. 

It's the memories that haven't happened 
as I try to perceive the future. 

And it's the idea... 

And the notion... 

Of living without you.