I love the aesthetic the ballpoint pen scribbles give to it.

Thank you, I loved it too!

Death remainds me of my Lifemate. I wrote a poem a month back, and now you inspired me to write it in English as well.


Her gaze is darkness. Is ash.
Beyond unconcerned mounds of sand.
I and our oldest daughter said yes to donations
and they used her cornea.

Her voice is silence. Is dust.
Under indifferent grass.
I and our youngest daughter gave her electric guitar away
to her best friend's son.

Her touch is nothingness. Is peel.
Lost in endless gravel.
I couldn't stand the house and sold it
and moved away.

Everything is darkness, silence, and nothingness.
Time pushes me brutally forward.
I haven't visited the memorial park even once
for fear of never being able to walk away.

Aw that is lovely.