TO MY PARENTS

The old pain comes back, always new -

iron grip on my heart, pressure on my chest;

I can't breath - 

I can't live. You are

gone, you are dead, and I am lost.

Lost on this road

to nowhere; this purgatory

while alive, alive?

Alive, because I suffer.

The dead suffer

only in our minds,

where their pale second lives

are smothered, again and again.

13.06.2019