The Softer Death

Jonathan Douglas Dowdle was born in Nashua, NH and has traveled throughout the US, he currently resides in South Carolina. Previous works have appeared or are appearing in: Hobo Camp Review, 322 Review, The Right Place At The Right Time, Blue Hour Review, Whimperbang, After The Pause, and The Big Windows Review.

The Softer Death

It is whatever kills the faith in us,
Not renewed, the tired expression
That hollows the heart, and it matters
Little where your feet land.
It is the knowledge that
In some eyes, success and failure
Are the same thing, and you
Only a weight on the mind
Pressed against
Their feather.
It is the understanding that
You have taken from the cup of
The friend
One time too many, and your split
Atoms cannot be repaired,
So you commit yourself
To silence, knowing
There are no answers,
Only the hollow dark places
That waltz, silent
Through the deep, vast night,
Know these secrets,
Know this language.
It is the softest art of dying,
Faith flayed, gutted, and
Building a body from
All that is left from
All that is undone;
It is knowing well enough
There is no changing
The story’s ending
That eventually keeps you
From speaking
A word.

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