
Not missing you hurts more than holding onto your arm for dear life.
That was the part I least expected. Did you?
Did it cut like a hollow knife?
Don’t be fooled, I’m not looking for answers in lonely poetry rituals tonight.
I’m simply grasping the little ironies of how instead of leaving it all alone
I put up a fight.
The calm I feel now – wouldn’t sell if for 30 pieces of silver, I think Judas lied.
Or maybe he did it to embrace the peace afterwards,
And the offer of coins simply aligned?
But I’m not angry anymore – so it’s impossible to hang around the grief,
It’s even difficult to recall how rage fumed out of my nostrils
Hence I’m asking you to keep the goodbyes brief.
Not missing you is like taking a shower and rediscovering my own skin underneath –
Again, after all the slaps and bruising, and dragging my name through the mud
I’m finally smiling with my teeth.
Your time is up, old friend, please take the last empty seat.
-JW