The Room Grew Cold / by renee mckenna

What made me think

About your name

To look you up

And find out you were gone? 

We shared a secret love

Of memories held deep

Tears offered by candle light

Open hearted

In a warm room

while winter fell


We stayed warm and naked

In that quilted bed

Hiding from the world

Clinging to the hope  

That we would never

Have to leave

Like an addict hopes

The high will never end. 

But the day came

To open the door

and when I stepped outside

It was over

The candle had burned down

And the room grew cold. 

We stayed connected

For a long time. 

You never used that brilliant mind

Not really

You never grew into the man

You were afraid to be. 

You died instead

At 52. 


Bless the soul of Tim Emswiler, one of the smartest most sensitive people I ever knew.  You were a loyal friend. May you do in the next life, what went undone in this.