down the Valley
where the river flows
flocks of graves
swarmed with crows

ashes to ashes
turn dust to dust
where their metals lei
and turned to rust

stenches of blood
screams and decay
where wasted sheds
are left astray

down the Valley
where the river flows
are plumps of graves
where flowers grow

People take it for granted
And just assume that everyone has it
To feel themselves be captured
By something they won't admit

To feel the pain
That consuming torture
To have that warm beat in your chest
Spreading like wildfire

To feel what
I want to feel

Not when the music starts
Or when a novel ends
I want that constant suffocating feeling
That gives my life meaning
I want to be whole and broken

I want what words can’t explain
Or letters can't decode
I want to be  torn apart
And sowed back together
I want to feel my stomach drop
when life nocks me down
I want to feel my vocals rip
When i cry

I want to feel
Like something to someone
I want the emotion of knowing
I ment something
I felt something

To feel the raw emotions
Of being human
Not this numbness

Not the dread of the sunrise
knowing It will be gone

No amount of guilt can resurrect the past and for some that past is still a future

still there is an innocence in the thought of sowing a piece of oneself in life

but I’ve learned we are not remembered we are not remembered for our changing seasons or for the gifts we bring

no , we are not remembered for our perfections
it’s the imperfections that leave a fingerprint
a fingerprint sowed into the veins of life pumping and shaping the vessels of our memory

we are not remembered by those who do not remember themselves
we are remembered by our morals and actions ,for the way we drowned with air in our lungs

we are remembered for trying to leave a little piece of ourselves in the lives of others

as a parent, a friend ,a tutor ,a sister and a child

for the unbending ,heartfelt , seer-willed deeds of someone untamed of life only caged by the deeds of others

You ,pained by your memories and the vessels sowed in your place ,stuck questioning your loss of the unknown when you realise what you lost was yourself

your sorrow and entrapment will fade away and your shell will remain
that little piece of a perfectly , imperfect , fading smile imprinted into my life

and now that you don’t have to be perfect anymore
you can be remembered