There are no goodbyes.
Just a long exhalation, then a sigh.
A sigh of peace, a sigh of grief.
A sigh of guilty relief.
Relief that you let go.
Relief that you went gently into the night.

Selfish is death as it steals your breath,
and takes ours away in grief.
But memory is kind it rose colours our mind,
and allows us to be left behind.

You'll always be our best memory
You'll always be at your best
You'll always be at rest,
and we left behind will always be bereft.

But there are no "good"byes
Just tears to cry
A life to dignify
And the question Why?

I never said goodbye dad, always "see you later".
Goodbye is too final, and love never dies.
There isn't a full stop, and the clocks still tick then tock.
While we children still breathe, half of you never leaves.
Good or bad, perfect or flawed, you are always our dad.

Where do you go when you stare?
Am I there?
What are you looking at?
Is it me?
Why are your eyes vacant,
and your mind so full?
Do you remember?
Do you want to remember?
Are you in the past?
Are you in the present?
Are you remembering?
Are you forgetting?
Remembering running, walking, playing.
Remembering loving, singing and dancing in the rain?
What are you looking at when you stare?
I can't answer I'm not there.

Happiness folds in on itself
like a piece of paper.

'Hello', said the voice from the darkness.
I'm back again.

Stars and scars write our fate in script so deep a telescope barely make it legible.
Scars unlike stars burn hotly in memory.
Stars cold and distant are dying slowly.
Slowly dying is the scar tissue,
slowly growing is the memory.
Stargazers look Scargazers look away.

I am damaged goods
but without the reduced price tag.

Basilisk eyes
and
Silky skin
Hide the poison
Contained within