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I don't know what to call You.
"Father," which should denote familiarity,
seems a foreign word to me.
May 6, 2025
The hush of morning drifts through golden light
The sun is slowly rising…
As she opens the windows
The warmth hits her skin softly
She closes her eyes
Enjoying the warmth
Breathing slowly
— julie
Written on a quiet morning, letting the light speak.
Listening to Pink Floyd after getting in the wrong uber: In the Flesh?
What a silly thing, the places we go and the people we see
We resolve to drink more, exercise less, complain to all high heavens
Flip it and pound it from behind
That'll teach us
She Created Me
My Mother is Mary
My name is Chri
I have documented miracles
I have written a way of life
I have been through ups and downs
Still I sit here seen
Going Unseen
Faith is broken
My job as the son
Is to go and soak up the sun
And wind down in the moonlight
Pray non stop
And never stop believing
Please father redeem me
Free me
From my sins
Father may my worries dissappear
Dying for the right of making
All men equal
Like a ghost in the night
Hopping shadows
Saving souls
We must all face the wrath
Revolution
Revelation
Rapture
Purgatory
Redemption
Precessi­on
Regression
Freedom
Saved
The Lord is Our Savior
Only God can save us
Naza
Oh Romeo
To cast yourself onto death
Leave us wondering
Where was your Juliet?

Your smile gone
Now only still in photographs
Tell me young one
Why no Juliet?

Every life is different
Each one from the next
Ah I see now
It was never because of Juliet

Now as the sun lays it’s brow
And the sky gives it’s grieving with falling tears
You’ll never be forgotten
And remain forever as our lonely Romeo
Written in memory of a classmate. I didn’t know him well recently, but we once walked the same sidewalk home from daycare. It rained hard an hour after he passed. This poem is how I process loss.

— The End —