a choka/tanka? thing vs. the almost end of the world

No epics today, This month has been quite concise;

Don't want to follow The gifted suggestions there.

There's only short words For the things I encompass.

"Be quick about it" The writer in me shrugs:

Impatient. Annoyed. "Get over it! You're healed now!"

It's easier to Count syllables, or it will

Just breach containment. It should Have, months ago, address red.

too late;

I should have torn everything apart but this is what grief does; it just hides until you're ready and the other star wakes, resonant, and everyone thinks you can destroy the world (and you could have).

(in a timeline to the left– you did; you did even better and broke the universe. this echo of a crimson promise despite the grey princess you decided to keep instead, an address red)

after all, she is still alive. so are you. neither of you are the same anymore but enough of each other survived to combine and scare the instruments.

i seem to be always finding what remains; I will go to it now, in due time. we've all the world and our own schedule.