The Girl that I Knew

In the dark I am holding

a corpse in my arms of

the me that I used to know.


I can’t decide whether

to mourn or



It seems that with death

the natural response is to

wear all black and to cry

and to fly the flag at half mast

and to move on with grace but with obvious suffering.


So I do because I ought to

and what would they think

If I didn’t?


But I look in the mirror

and inside I don’t feel the loss that I should

and the funeral march in my head fades

and the trumpets ring out

and I can’t contain the


How can I be joyful when a part of me has died?


Day after day I realize

I hated that face

And that fake smile

That now rests on the corpse

Of the me that I used to know.


The words that would stray from those thin lips

And the contemplations of that unbeating heart.


I think that with every death

Newness is waiting to spring up and take its place

The circle of life?


And so too, with myself.


Now that she is all gone there reveals the smile

That is true

And the heart that is fair


I don’t know how it happened

But I’m guessing it’s you

Who got rid of the girl that I knew.