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I wish I could feel again-
Breathe again, open up my airways
to new life.
I'm living as an empty shell-
I want to feel what it's like to be alive.
I can't describe the way numb feels,
because you feel nothing, or
you feel too much, used up.
Like an old record, skipping past the
best parts of the song.
You want so badly to listen again,
but the record is broken, and you cannot
find a replacement.
I'm tired of wearing this armor-
The pain is unbearable, almost too much
to muster up the courage and face the world.

I'd rather feel PAIN than feeling NOTHING at all.
© 2016 Christina Jackson
I loved you more than words could ever show-
You were this cosmic rope holding an infinite sea,
keeping me afloat.
A million lifetimes have passed since we first met-
I feel as though that rope now has been cut,
The door once open and welcoming, now shut.

I need you here now
I need you to see me silently bow-
And praise the universal gods that led me
to you.
Because after all, without you how would
I have learned to feel, truly feel something real?

With every heart string that’s plucked,
I bless the life I’ve been given.  
You showed me what could have been,
and what will never be.

And as much as my bitter heart breaks, every time
that thought invades my mind, I’m still grateful.
Eternally and hopelessly grateful for you.

The window once open has now
since been shut.
Everything and everyone in my life-
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
© 2016 Christina Jackson
I wrote you a eulogy
but it sounded more
like a speech rather than
a compass leading
towards peaceful harmony.

I cannot explain the
true nature of your death
and how much it has turned
our lives around.

Your granddaughter will never
see you grow older, and you will
never see her grow older.

She's going to wonder where
you are, the same age as I pondered,
where exactly your father was.

Only I got the courtesy of being seven
years old and remembering a rainy *******
funeral service, it got so bad that I was too short
to stand outside the cemetery and honor my
fathers father.

I cannot explain to you how difficult it
has been being the daughter that hasn't
mattered. The one without the kid, husband
or college degree.

You gloated about her endlessly
and I am so happy you talked about
her and her daughter.

However, for once I would love to know
what it is like to be the one you are proud of.

My intelligence, it stems from yours.
I'm not mad, or even sad you didn't
tell others how alike we are.
I am just going to have to understand
what you were thinking.

And accept the fact that I will never know.

As far as I can understand you have
always been proud of me, regardless
of how I lived my life.

I love you, and I'll miss you
Enjoy the afterlife
© 2016 Christina Jackson
RIP Dad, April 15th, 2016
My apologies for the terrible rhyming in this poem.
Words cannot explain the way I feel
at this moment.
I watched you die, I watched you
slip from this life.

Chest compressions, nurses on top
of your hospital bed giving you
CPR and trying to save your life.

It took you five hours to die-
3 critical codes. cardiac arrest.

I saw your heart, the echocardiogram
Your heart was beating so slowly,
I could barely watch what was happening
outside of the emergency room.

I felt numb, I felt nothing;
in the moment, I couldn't feel
a **** thing.

I have cried many times and
I feel absolutely guilty for going
out to dinner, and spending time
with friends and family without
you here.
I know you wouldn't want me
to stop living my life.
But by god do I feel guilty for
trying to live my life.

This poem isn't eloquent or even
beautiful. However, I feel I had to
release this pain I've been feeling.

It's as though a knife has cut straight
down from my chest to my stomach.

This pain is inconsistent-
heart disease is so common
Most people don't even think
about it until they are in the same

I can't write anymore,
if I do I'll end up falling apart.
© 2016 Christina Jackson
RIP Dad, April 15th, 2016
My apologies for the terrible rhyming in this poem.
Anxiety meds take control-
over my heart, brain, and soul.

In these past few months-
I haven't yet learned how
to take control.

The mind is a beautiful
thing to waste.

And I have wasted
away slowly, day by day.

I'm finally seeing a therapist,
and that has made all the
difference & no judgements
have been made.*

© 2016 Christina Jackson
I'm going to eat
so many chips
and cookies


© 2016 Christina Jackson
I tried- with comprising eyes
Yet you loved her with all that was
beautiful and wise.

My inevitable demise-

I was an afterthought;  I couldn't
keep what was brooding inside.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Blowing in the wind, are the
remnants of "us".
© 2015 Christina Jackson
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