Paradox Paper

A Poem by Miri Grace

I found a note from you

Wedged in between the pages of a book

And hidden back in the recesses

Of my closet.

The paper cloth-soft at the creases:

A bitter butterfly-wing page;

Pencil-thin letters with a

Permanent-ink meaning.

"I am going away and I am not returning.

I'm sorry,

I'm not happy here."

I remember when

You tied your intentions in a firm, final knot

And slipped them around your neck.

I remember when

You stood, poised at the edge of oblivion,

One foot in this fallen world

And one in the beyond,

The winds from the darkness of the deep

Swirling round, caressing your

World-weathered cheek:

The sweet beckoning of the void.

I remember

You, zombie-child,

Who longed to feel at any cost,

Your circle-burned skin,

And the vacancy sign behind your

Glassy and sedated eyes.

You are gone.

Yes, you are long gone

Because I killed you,

Killed your corrosion,

That cancerous brain-decay.

But I remain.

And my feet are firmly planted

On the dust of the earth

And there is breath in my lungs

And the sun is shining on my face.

Yes, I remain.

Sometimes I feel you watching me,

Feel your ghost-eyes

Silently surveying,

A parasite hungry for a host,

But I pay no heed

Because you are not me,

And you never will be again.

© 2020 Miri Grace

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Reviews

jacob erin-cilberto

when that part of us that is corrosive finally writes the goodbye note, and tightens the noose.
either it dies of its own hand or by ours...but we need to get rid of the diseased part of our heart and soul, somehow. And with permanent ink it is permanently written out of our lives.
and when we do, we are free to start over.
j.