Literature
Faceless
Six feet underground
Becoming faceless while
Fading from the memory of those
Who held you close.
First, the sound of your voice, then
Your smile, your embrace with
Memories tainted by words and
None of them have any proof of being true.
One says it happened this way,
Others speak of the opposite,
That it was them and that
It was all a lie.
The last thing said
As you returned to a place
That served as a makeshift home:
Goodbye, See you soon.
Then making promises that couldn’t
Be kept as that white came
And stole you away like
A feather in the breeze and
Captured every part of the truth and
Carried it with you.
Now all that can be seen
Is