Not so often now | for those who are not here anymore

I don’t go there so often now
In fact it’s probably been quite awhile
Ever since you left
It’s all, quiet, like a book that no longer writes itself,
If books could ever do that,
It’s quiet like a poem that is missing a stanza
Like a house with empty rooms.

I remember, from time to time, I reimagine,
But those were just fond memories,
Daydreams that I do not need to pinch myself to wake up from:
They aren’t real, I know it even as I dream it.
You’re dead, aren’t you. That’s what they said.
I didn’t believe the stranger I saw in the coffin – I didn’t see you die.

All I know is that no more poems appeared again.

– Jh

Not so often now by Jianhui Ho

if only there were smartphones and soundcloud then.

Not so often now | for those who are not here anymore

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