Kind of World
Jad Josey

There are no sunk costs in love,
though you might be a boat,
though you may be

sinking, treasure chest
destined to find the
bottom of the sea,

of the blue-black lake, of
the mattress where the scoop
of your body stays well past

your leaving. The cost
might be high. The price may be
unforgivable.

Your heart. A golden locket.
The friend you left wondering.
All the time you spent.

When you have
nothing left, you still have
everything you carry.

What should sink suddenly rises,
surprising even you.
What kind of world is this

where a heart can just stop beating?

---

Jad Josey’s Comments

A love poem. A heartbreak poem. The price of the former is the latter. I wrote this poem for someone who will likely never read it. Sometimes that’s the kind of world this is. And we carry on, buoyed by the knowledge that sometimes it’s different.

Table of Contents