Without

It is

empty

without,


Knowing,


Feeling,


Missing,


and 

the truth

is I know now

some things cannot

be undone

un

thought

un

loved

like,


and 

I hope,


fucking gorgeous

even 

now.


and 

the truth

is I know now

that friendship is

impossible

that

I will 

always love,


too much

and

I

am

forsaken

to the infinite

wednesday

as I let,


go.


and

the truth

doesn’t matter

and the lies don’t

matter and the empty

is all I have when,


don’t believe

in love

and

all

I

can

be is in

love with,


and

I can’t 

write around,


without,


anymore.

© Michael Barry 2013