The domino effect of positive energy sources from your smile like a flowing river in spring
Tilting your head slightly to the side and letting yur spaghetti hair cascade to your shoulders
Soft eyes the color of clouds blanketing the skies of Great Britain filled with empathy and tranquility
A voice dripping with a Brighton accent
Smooth and sweet like pure maple syrup drizzling off a stack of fluffy buttermilk pancakes
Your laughter powerful enough to supply a whole city with energy

My little Goldielocks,
Growing up before our eyes
You were just a shy little fanboy praying to posters on walls
Mayday Parade, Sum 41, and My Chemical Romance creating the Holy Trinity of Punk that you adored so much
Who knew you would be touring cross the world with your little pop punk band,
Opening for your heroes.

Your guitar sheds tales of sleepless nights due to long hours of practice
Tales of channeling blood, sweat and tears to create powerful lyrics
Tales of performances and tou pranks pulled with your four best mates
An anthology of memories that endlessly grows as As It Is explores new worlds
But don't worry
We will always love our kangaro racist ostrich

Oh Benji boy,
A new chapter is being typed up in your autobiography:
The chronicles of Benjamin Biss
You have gained a siamese twin to look after and care for
The pic to your guitar that you carry with you all the time
A shadow to follow and stand with you
The energy card to your Charizard
A wonderful wife to enjoy life with

Bissington,
With love I say this to you
Change that Never Happy, Ever After to a Happily Ever After and remember
Stay posi bro

When the words first came out of his mouth I was squeezing her hand
My brain was in jeopardy of knocking down the very last domino to the apocalypse
Our tongues paralyzed
Our hearts pizza dough being thoroughly kneaded with Titanium knuckles
Organs being scrunched up like those As Seen On TV pocket garden hoses
Then a small shy sound is heard inside my cranium
A quivering voice shyly saying
"May, it can't be that bad. It's just like Surfing. Surfing in the wipeout zone"
That one timid voice paused all chaos
Each domino standing back up,
Resuming its natural and rightful spot
I turned to Morgan and smiled a big goofy grin
And as I grinned I said
"Morgan, love, it's just like surfing. And I know there is no board that you can't ride."
She then looked back up at me and laughed.
"Okay then. Come on, the ocean is waiting for us."
Morgan paddled out into the calm ocean and there was no hesitance to start the wild ride that we she embarked on
Because we knew that it couldn't wait.
It took months before balancing became manageable, for that's what eight rounds of chemotherapy can do to a person
Like oxygen corroding the Statue of Liberty in the rough rain storms of New York
And as much of a rigorous athlete she was, she could not avoid the first gnarly tidal wave, or those following in its footsteps
And then there was the last wave that glided into a series of tubes. At any moment she could collapse within
I remember in the break between the first and second tubes our wishes were granted
We were married in the tiny chapel inside the hospital.
And I kissed her
I kissed her radioactive lips and her puffy steroid chipmunk cheeks
I hugged and caressed her bony body with tubes all attached
I kissed her for the last time
In the third tube, right before her eternal coma she asked me a question.
"I had to wipe out sometime didn't I?"
I wept a monsoon on months end
When it was suggested to terminate life support , through barrels of tears I nodded only thinking about that one question.
Yes Morgan. Yes.
"You had a good run" I say holding her hand as her monitor went beep beeep beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee