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.