Collections Of Hurt Poem by Samael Wolf

Some things I never touch
in this house, I try not

to stir the hurt
Most times its unavoidable

looking for some
lost thing, and find

the pills that gave me hope
that my friend, my dog

would live a long life
only to bide my time

until he died.
Finding an earring under

the bathtub, knowing whos
lovely ear it once adorned

and how she destroyed me
in her own lovely way.

Finding notes from lunches
she packed so lovingly

for me (sentimental fools keep everything) .
Pictures freeze moments in time

and finding them brings back the
moments as well as the hurts

of what might have been.
Finding her coarse black hair

still in abundance, and remembering
her scent, as intoxicating

as Everclear, yet knowing it also
brings insanity and total abandon.

Yes, I try to avoid those places
those remnants of my

collections of hurt.