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 Jun 2017 Amethyst Fyre
Sandoval
I was not born a

poet.

I was broken into

one.


*Sandoval
Dilapidated. Dust seethes
within my lungs.
Gasping
for air, my hands
reach out to grab hold
of a better world.
Fading and old - broken
light tears me apart
for days.
Revealed rust,
dark eyes,
decrepit limbs.
Tumbling.
I am worn, weary,
filled with dust.
Thick, ugly dust,
choking me,
drowning me,
destroying me.
~~ Amathophobia, the fear of dust. ~~
 Jun 2017 Amethyst Fyre
Deeee
Fourteen Years Old

They're fighting again. I can feel it.
She tells me to be careful.
He.... He says nothing.
and I'm not surprised
Why won't he say anything? Why won't he tell me? Doesn't he think I can handle it? Doesn't he think I'm strong enough? Old enough? Enough?
Just enough?
And then I start to wonder.

Is that why?
Because I'm not enough?
Or maybe I'm too much?
Didn't he want this?
Didn't he want me?*

Didn't he promise me forever?
From here and there
I hear him speak
His voice, falling in mild whispers
But he always plays hide n’ seek

At times he speaks loud n’ clear
Sometimes so harsh and stern
How he denies my wild longings
With a stubborn ‘Yes’ or ‘No’

What magic and mystery in him stored
I am at a loss to gauge
Amid the shards of my broken sleep
I often struggle to decipher his mysterious codes

I sought after him ever and ever
Down the nights and through the days
Taking him to be one from the dead,
I searched him through avenues dark

Along aisles of the dead lain in rows
And in the hallways of fame
But he eluded me like a mysterious sprite
Prancing around and hiding about

When I give up my search after him
He shouts and whistles amid the din
And I see faint truths suddenly uncoiling
Forming in me a clearer perspective of life

At the end of my incessant search
I chanced to meet him within my own self
Peering into my depths, I saw him, his face veiled
And a balance held obliquely in his hands

Lifting the veil from his countenance
I saw him clear, clear as in a mirror
Someone with such commanding air
And stern with an impassive demeanor

In the still pool of humid silence
I heard him introduce himself
His sound ringing so distinct and clear
Leaving echoes in the hall of stillness

“I am CON- SCI-ENCE,
Your alter ego
Listen to me, you shall not stray’’!
I am tired and miss the comfort of sleep
The hours of endless dreams
Uninterrupted
The dull nights of perfect solitude
The quite yearning of nothing more
Of my life of something less
Peaceful lonely tides
Of sad moon lullabies
Washing over the cracks
And broken pieces
Of a heart still faintly beating
Happy enough to remember
Love kisses of long ago
Limbs of dead lovers
Holding me under my breath
Burning ghosts of memories
Of torrent blissful bodies
With eager hands
And lustful mouths
Dancing lunatics under
And over and twisted
And tangled within sheets
Made of dreams and fire
What a crazy ride
What a life of love
It has been
Hearts still burning in stars
Of my now lonely sky
Names I still hear in songs
Of melancholy beauty
And tender kindness
I miss them all
I loved them all
I love them still

...

And now
Unexpectedly
There is you
A soft pulse of hopelessness
A gently crushing weight
A dream
That has made me painfully aware
That my life is not done
That love is
Not done
And it doesn't need
To be felt in kisses
Or to know your touch
Your body never need
Be naked before my mine
Our limbs never need
To dance with madness
And lust
It is there
In the space
And time between us
Illuminated
By the lighting
Of your heart
And sung
In the thunder
Of my pulse
Two specs passing briefly
One on the way up
The other falling down
My heart filled
With just the sound
of your name
And needs nothing more
To know
Your love is beautiful
 Jun 2017 Amethyst Fyre
Mary-Eliz
I see you there
suspended for a time
between the shadow
and the light.

You look pale
but peaceful,
in a dream state.

I rest awhile,
a shallow sleep,

then I awake

knowing…

without words
my mind whispers

it’s time

I gently wipe your lips,
brush a stray hair
from your forehead.
It’s all I know to do.

Then I sing
a cherished lullaby
hoping you hear me
hoping it wraps you in love
as my arms wrapped
around you
as a child.

I hold your hand,
kiss your forehead.
In that instant I see
and feel all you’ve been
all that is you

tiny wrinkled infant
delightful, smiling six-month old
curious toddler
proud school age
struggling teen
loving adult

realizing
we're losing all of these,
all that you've been
all that is you

then

I feel your spirit leave…

for that brief moment
I’m overcome with a calm
I can’t describe.

A gift rare and precious –

as I was there
when you entered the world
I was with you
when you left.
     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        

"The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough."  
Rabinadrath Tagore
We lost our son to a brain tumor. He fought bravely and determinedly for seven years, enduring two surgeries, radiation, Gamma knife "surgery", chemotherapy and clinical trials. He never lost his sunny smile or determination. He only let go when he knew it was time, slipping into unconsciousness shortly after his two brothers (his best friends) arrived to say goodbye. He remained in that suspended state for two days. On the third day the four of us gathered for dinner and shared thoughts about him and our life with him. We cried, we laughed, we shared memories. Later that night he let go. I will always believe, being the caring and generous person he was, that he heard us talking and knew that, as hard as it would be, we would be okay.
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