I’ve read all of us are forced to leave—
You’re born and grow sad. You have to go.
I’m not sure I feel forced to leave.
I leave each time I go to sleep.
What feels forced on me is loss,
Or, not loss so much as pain,
Which may or may not come
From loss but for sure hurts,
And then that I know
What goes won’t come back,
Or what comes back
Is just the hurt,
And hurt stays
As hurt, but
Then it,
Too, goes.
You
Know?
