The Guest

The passage of time mutes the pain you carry

but you carry it nonetheless. 

It weighs no more than a breath

upon your skin,

if that.

You wake up in the morning and hurry along

to work, to deadlines, to bodily needs,

to lovers, and social commitments,

just like a good person.

At night you fall asleep alone or with a spotter.

When your eyes have closed and your 

breath steadies like a stream-

it is there.

It doesn't want you to forget.

It needs you to remember as long as you can.

It can't live without you, it needs a safe place to stay,

buried within, waiting for a time to say hello.