Long after you left…


Your pointed words stayed with me

Often acting as effective antidotes

To the excesses of my own mind


All of my wild leaps of imagination

Swiftly cut down to size

By your pre-emptive acts of concern


Had it not been for you

I may’ve been lying fallen somewhere

Ditched by default of my own design


Yes, the credit for my salvation

Must be rightly accorded to you

And to the corrective power of sarcasm


For what could’ve otherwise been brutal

And left me hurt and wounded

Is now only a persistent dull ache…


I continue to exist- corrected, but wronged

Alive, but dead; breathing in a coffin

Shrouded in a symbolic spotless white.

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