“The Fading Game by Stewart Stafford Though your life was stolen from me, I greedily wanted—and want—more. Death made us necessary strangers, And you, hostage to a timepiece fog. Pain’s screams in the kettle’s whistle— The brittle choreography of survivor’s guilt, Self-loathing: I had let you flee my memory, Your voice relapsed to white noise in life’s static. Assuming my agitated reaction made you recoil, As you faded as soon as you had arrived, The desire to connect was overridden by mutual bartering for a wary ceasefire. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” DeathLossGriefMemoryContemporary PoetryElegySurvivors GuiltPsychological PoetryFuneral PoemSuburban Gothic Author:Stewart Stafford