youth group
spry griever

The window held no answer

Thoughts still ate my mind like cancer

I studied the tendons in my hand

But I couldn't understand

Their purpose

She struggled at the surface

Now a line of fixed smiles

Keep your eyes fixed on the roofing tiles

Just a vacant gaze

These are strange days to grieve

A party of dead leaves

And memories

A series of soft speeches

Homeboys gather in their breeches

How can we find words that will

Remember her without sounding trivial

I know I don't know how

It comes as sure as the next season

But I can't find a plausible reason

We are infinitesimal

But our grief enwraps us all

In it's breadth

Your breath

Still hangs inside the receiver

The leave has it harder than the leaver