“Until you travel to that place you can’t come back
Where the last pain is gone and all that’s left is black”
ELEGY: sorry, not sorry
I looked in the mirror this morning and said my name, sorry, not sorry, not yours
I’m not the man you were, the skin I’m in, you wore
I can recall, but I can’t relive. Can visit in memory but cannot return. Imagine not embody.
You died so that I could live. This elegy is yours, sorry, not sorry.
I walked the path, reached my destination. Can direct, but couldn’t guide.
Wouldn’t show the path to anyone, or confess, or confide
It’s as if I’m watching a video, a testimony from a history I wasn’t present to witness.
I’m a doctor listening to a hypochondriac describing their latest sickness
“Until you travel to that place you can’t come back.
The last pain is gone and all that’s left is black”
Sorry not sorry you’re not who I am anymore. New day New man.