bulks of grief, i
shipped mine off to an island
nearby

white skin, white dresses
you
must feel so pretty and
alive
my ribs have held the uncertainity
all my
life and now i swim in a shade of
being needed

patch up your smile and display
indifference when i know you're
sad
and split into divisions of
dreaming and loyality
but even the sky l
e
a
k
s
down its swell and script, a shipment
of white and blue bottles with hope
floating

i sure hope my package of grief meets the
proper destination, and if the courier services
have never heard of the island
i've written down in the destination box

i'll have twice the sadness load to
deal with.