Death comes to me in dreams:
The dead float like dandelions:
Shimmery and wistful it all seems,
While sleep binds me in irons.
The dark haunts me with forgotten smiles;
It whispers the future in my ear;
And all the past vainly beguiles,
For within it, there isn’t a single tear.
New dreams are dreadful and bright!
I can remember not even one!
In vain, I try to make love to night,
Under the eye of an unforgiving sun.
Most nights I find myself wide awake!
There is this end of a world feeling
That takes over sleep and suffocates rest
And sends my mind reeling!
Thoughts and memories of what we were:
A tantrum thrown; a mock wrestling match;
A joke on shorts; a song we called our own;
A kissed bandaid put on a scratch.
I become Taylor Swift, who narrated
Personal loss, pain and bullet holes;
Or Adele’s soul, in royal Albert Hall,
Proclaiming love’s future goals.
When night passes and morning comes to spite –
I quietly shut the windows on its face…
I switch on some numbing porn, or maybe
Write a poem – to fill the sleepless space.
These lonely nights make me think and yearn
Of how he (probably?) is fast asleep,
While time holds me in such a fucked-up flux,
Wherein I can’t feel, much less laugh or weep.
and winter brings with it each year,
a weariness from the last tear
that tore its way out from my eye
with no will to lay down and die;
it’s not a proper death, my dear,
it’s a theft, a little each year,
yes, i resent this on the whole,
losing little parts of my soul,
little here, little there, little
went down the drain with my spittle;
so why do tears fall with those leaves?
why does the brain think as the heart grieves?
what answer I seek has nature guessed,
or has she in autumn confessed?
why is the tear still forming to flow?
what is it i do not in full know?
Is it the blight man was born for?
Is it me I quietly mourn for?
– inspired by loss
and by the climax of Spring and Fall by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Hearts Still Care 
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