The Black

This is post 1 of 6 of a series of poems and prose that Rara sent to be shared with the Stories community.  Each posting brings us a bit closer to her release from jail…  If you can, and you haven’t already, please donate what you can to the Rara Relief fund.  Every little bit will help her get back on her feet.

I ran out of words when the love of my life ran out of life.
When he died,

Without me.

When his bright,
Delightful,
Frightful brain,
Exploded into itself.

(finally doing
what he always said it would.)

He kept his promises
like he kept his thoughts – –
in a perpetual rolling boil.

He was molten lava
and he erupted.

He p o p p e d,
and he sparked,
and he burn-burn-burned,

and all anyone can talk about is the ash.

But it was his sound
and fury
that lit my sky,

and it was the heat of his last gasp
that burned my earth
into paralyzed,
petrified

silence.