GRIEF Poem: run away, by Nour Gemayel

You’re the one that I want, but—
Don’t say but.

But she’s the one that I need.
Oh.

A simultaneous push and pull.
An interior darkness sweeps.

I find myself beside myself;
a voice that’s not my own begs:

“Then say it’s over.”
It will never be over.

“Say it’s over,” the beggar demands.
I’ll think of you in five, ten, and fifty years.

“Say it’s over,” the beggar implores.
Fine. It’s over.

The beggar comes back inside of me.
She is dead.