a private conversation
where do you go in that mind of yours
when you are nowhere to be found
what triggers do you keep in your pocket
that nobody knows about
those poems you used to write inside
virtual greasy spoons
they’re plastered now
nearly everywhere
giving inspiration to all things living
I swear I found you more than twice
walking the streets at midnight
blinders on either side
I begged you to take my hand
I swear I believed I could have saved you
but you heard nary a syllable
and reluctantly I turned away
listening to your very last words
resonating
september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
So sensitive and contemplative. I could go a lifetime on words like that.
thank you very much for such kind words
Heartbreaking…