When I hear sirens,
even though we've stopped speaking,
I hope you're okay

I don't want this to be the last year I ever hear your voice...

My own radical honesty is my executioner.

The most painful part
is learning to make friends
with the sadness I hold in your absence.

Or perhaps it is knowing
I cannot unlove
the very person who fought for us
to end
more than they fought for us
to be endless.

This year I have mastered the quiet art of discretely crying.
Despite the pain I feel throughout my heart's repeated upheavals,
I perfectly personify a silent film entitled Grief.
The marquee reads:
Please do not tap on the glass.