Dig A Hole, Part 2

Time heals, said my master.
Yes, I nodded, and it also
Pushes and bites

And kicks at my arms

And my bruised legs.

My master looked away.
She gave me a spade
To dig holes for my grief,
Where blossom fell briefly,
Though not today.

Someone Else’s Song

I heard the end of your song
Before you finished singing;

I found the end of my life
Before I finished living.

Now I’ve been singing someone’s song,
Their words in my mouth, verbatim,

And over time their phrases replaced
Everything I had forsaken;

Routed out, vicarious mouth,
Only my soul’s voice was not taken.