To Keep You Here, a poem

I wear your ashes

in a pendant of stainless steel,

a style I know

you would have loved.

Close to my heart,

close as I can get you now.

Sixteen grueling hours

under the needle,

American Traditional,

just like the ones you wore.

Bold lines, old style,

a tribute inked into skin.

It hurt...

but that pain pales

next to losing you.

I'd sit for a hundred more

just to keep you close.

We built you shelves,

front and center,

living room altar.

Your urn.

Your pictures.

Small, unremarkable things

you once owned,

once held...

a coin, a patch, a worn-out wallet...

nothing to anyone else,

everything to us.

They hold your hands now,

since we can't.

We try.

God, we try

to keep you here.

But you're not.

You'll never be...

and I just can't accept that.