Death is not the final word.
Without ears, my father still listens,
still shrugs his shoulders
whenever I ask a question he doesn't want to answer.

I stand at the closet door, my hand on the ****,
my hip leaning against the frame and ask him
what does he think about the war in Iraq
and how does he feel about his oldest daughter
getting married to a man she met on the Internet.

Without eyes, my father still looks around.
He sees what I am trying to do, sees that I
have grown less passive with his passing,
understands my need for answers only he can provide.

I imagine him drawing a breath, sensing
his lungs once again filling with air, his thoughts ballooning.

I have always thought of you
As something traveling
Never swaying like others
Or finding solace in coarse night lit dwellings
I respect that in you
But I will find it hard to tilt my head and whisper you farewell
Because that day is inevitable

And years on
me, dead tired
in a place far away
I'll think of you
One day learning
Next at your prime
You'll go far, old friend
But remember to stop and think of me sometimes
And who we together
once were

I smelled your shirt tonight
        Remember the one you took off before you left and tossed at me?
Said I could keep it for a memory.
                 It was an accident,
         I didn't want to smell it,
        To
           smell
               you.
     It reminded me of the night before you left,
        We stayed up talking half the night about you leaving,
       being sad but anxious and happy too
         I just
               held
                      you
Watched you sleep, wondered about your dreams
             I didn't sleep that night
        Stayed up all night and cried
               I knew I was gonna miss you
                  And it was gonna hurt so bad
                        To watch you go
But when I just smelled your shirt
            It didn't make me sad
                   Not
                         even
                                mad
It was just another memory
Of the mistakes I've made and learned from
             I've
                   let
                      it all
                            go
I guess I just wanted you to know
      That even if you don't want it,
                 I've
                      forgiven
                              you.
    Tomorrow?
I'm gonna wash that shirt
And *stop thinking about you.

I believe my soul is rotten
Yet you say it is not

I see my face, it's so ugly
Yet you say I'm pretty

I think my body is destroyed
Yet you say I've earned my stripes

I know my heart is beyond repair
Yet you say you'll help mend it

Can you really see so deep into my eyes?
Into my soul?
My heart?
Sometimes I think you're blind
Because everything about me is *torn all apart

I can smell him on my sheets
      I can taste him in my dreams
             I can still feel every inch where he's touched me
I hear his laughter echoing in the walls
             I can still see him in all these pictures I saved for
           memories

But this bed is bare
My dream's a nightmare
       I can't hear
             His laughter
       He's not near
             Enough to touch
My eyes are blinded by tears
He's killed my senses,  
      I'm no longer aware

Everything around me,  slowly fading away
His face, his scent, his laughter,  his touch
Maybe I'll just pop a few pills and sleep away the day
At least he's in my nightmares, the pain of reality is too much