Museum of Memories

A personal poem about the sadness of losing a friend.

You wrote about it once,
about losing a friend.
You carefully threaded your words
around him, as if he was
a great tapestry,
inviting as he hung
in your museum of memories
but untouched by your ways.

Now my pen has darkened
twenty-six sheets of College Ruled paper
and counting. I thought
"sorry" would have been enough
but I find myself missing you
so much.

It's not that without you,
I feel incomplete.
It's that with you,
there was always unexplained joy
to look forward to.
But now
your reasonless departure
sends me into convulsions,
and I am tipping
on fury like a beehive
when struck.

Tomorrow I will crawl
to your museum and torch it for you
like the roses on my driveway.*
Then, you won't have
little lies to keep you warm,
just the complete absence
of my art in your mind.



I burn things that belong to people I want to forget. In this instance it was roses from an ex that my friend helped me burn.