How I'm Dealing With the Loss

is this how it works?
in this room
the hours of love
still make shadows.

Charles Bukowski, For Jane

it always rains, now
ain't no sunshine in my skies.
how am I supposed to go on
without you?
and all that's left is grief
my body heaves and jerks
I haven't cooked a meal in weeks.
eating from plastic throwaway trays
passing crumpled currency to graveyard-shift clerks
is this how it works?

work kept calling
so I cut the phone line
letters pushed through the cracks in the door
go equally unanswered
was that a stone at the window?
the lights stay off, I prefer the gloom
buried deep under the duvet built for two
swaddled like a babe I weep but
the four walls echo back the silence of the tomb
in this room

you always told me to prepare for the worst
yet promised the best was yet to come
and you hid your black spots for so long
until it was far too late
that was your plan all along, and
that's when push at last came to shove
was it better this way?
all I could do was watch until at last
you were relinquished to whatever lies above
the hours of love

they tell me it'll get better
that these pills will help
but I keep washing them down with booze
and though I see your face in everything
I can't find you anywhere
I've asked all my friends but no one knows
maybe look inside
chasing these phantoms with soda
the ravens take flight from crossbeams and the gallows
still make shadows.

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