I over whelmed you

with many poems

Are you angry ?

Was it unpermitted ?

With each of them

I am losing you

Turning you in to a memory

In present tense

Ridding my self of you

Having a cold bath

With every poem of mine

More of you is dying in me

I am burying you in that

safe past

Making you real in poems

You are becoming a ghost in reality

Every poem mourns for the death

Of the emotion that gave it birth

Every poem celebrates your loss

And mourns my grief

You permitted this instead of you

I permit this poem despite me……..

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