When I am gone,
find me in the
slow, creeping morning light
at dawn
when the dew glistens
and returns to its creator.

When I am gone,
find me in the sparrow
that swoops and bends
to find the perfect place
in a giving tree.

When I am gone,
find me in the genuine smiles
of those around you
whom you fill with great joy.

When I am gone,
find me in the radiant sun
peaking through the clouds
giving light to the world.

When I am gone,
feel my love
for my love is a candle
ever burning, never fading,
always understanding that
sometime we will meet again
soon.

I left that Elementary school so relieved
Because killing myself hadn't been successful
And I just wanted to escape
Even after the rope didn't work
I somehow lasted
To the end of the year
I was eleven then.
I hoped the next time I saw you
I would look pretty
I could show you
I am more than just
The ugly girl in the back row
Who doesn't own clothes as nice as yours
Never had a pretty face
Never wore make up
Because she wasn't allowed in the sixth grade
Who wasn't a flawless dancer like you
And was endlessly depressed
Who hated herself more than anyone else
Although there were close seconds
I wanted to be really pretty, and really skinny, with friends
Three things I never had in Elementary
More importantly though,
I wanted to be smiling the next time I saw you
To prove I could be happy
Because I didn't laugh that entire last year
In fact, I smiled only 8 times in total
I hoped to maybe have a boyfriend
Because the boy I liked for 7 years
Liked you
I saw you that very first day
And as usual
You acted like we never knew each other
I looked pretty ******
I felt fat in the shirt I was wearing
And you were dressed so much prettier than me
My friends were elsewhere
So it looked like I was still a loner
I was having a bad make up day
And I was in a bad mood
So I wasnt smiling.
I guess "Goth girl"as you used to call me
If I wore black shoes that day
The suicidal loser that everyone hated
Doesn't look like she's changed much to you, does she.

I see your face everyday in the crowd
I never say hi, of course. We were never really friends.
I consider giving a tight smile, you know
Just to be polite
After all, we did sit in the same classroom for two years
After all, we have known each other's names since kindergarten
But your friends all hated me
I don't know if you did
But I sure never remember you sticking up for me
Anyway
Now I see you everyday
And just like you used to
You pretend I don't exist
And just like you used to, you look perfect, you're pretty and popular
All the boys want your number
And I don't mind
It's just that, well
I still find myself
Jealous
Because I will never ever
Be like you
And that's the only thing I ever wanted
Way back then
When you at least said hi

Only when I am done giving,I can ask you for something in return..
But my love is a constant giving process..and
it gives me no room for asking u back...
The more I exude,the more I generate...
love is something that I generate and I am generating it constantly leaving me no space and time to think of whether u r giving back to me...
Shiva has given me this that is not exploitative by nature...and I am in eternal debt to him.

Somewhere after the nothingness and
antecedent to this somethingness,
Where you and me aren't two but an absolute one,
Where you and me aren't distinguishable by any means and no means,
And Where the time is unleashed from the unboundedness,
I want you to come to there with me consciously,
And that's where we will stay forever....ever...

Nature doesn't end at cement.
It is
a pour
            i
              n
                  g
          ­            over into

                                                  space

  ­           of the Manifest,
in all its twisting,
reaching ways.
It finds a hallow and calls it home.

Nature is               lonely
but never alone.
Mesh of living weave,
water altered
in the shape of its dwelling,
looking out over      horizons
wrapped around
its e x p a n s e .

Alive and s w e l l i n g ,
in dance and song,
beckoning.

Snake makes a feast of his tail.

One Mother is hungry.

I did knock the tree trunk
Harder and harder,
as though i am a woodpecker.
in search of something inside it
and to ask the question
But what i get,
is not an answer,
but a few dried leaves
waiting to fall on me and die on the ground.

I did throw pebbles
on the banks of a river
Farther and Farther,
in the quest of something below the water
to ask the question.
But what i get
is not an answer,
but a splash of tiny drops
waiting to touch my skin and get dried up.

I did run in the direction of the wind
Faster and faster
to defeat it, to stop it
and to ask the question
But what i get
is not an answer
but a heavy breathlessness
eating up my energy, and splashing the sweat all over.

And finally i did fight with God
and prayed with utter dedication
But I still don't get an answer
Because he says, the answer is within me
My conscience should answer and no one else.

He says: "Its alright not to know the answers
For they are meant to come to you
when you least expect them."

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

I am terrified of going back to how that pain wouldn't leave me two years ago because I have enough burdens left over to carry, and I don't deal with agony very well.

I am terrified of going back to how that numbness wouldn't leave me last year because it's worse even than anguish to be unable to feel, unconvinced you are still alive.

I am terrified of going back to how that happiness wouldn't leave me just over two years ago because as soon as you get up high, the further you have to fall.

Dear reader,


Reno doesn't smoke and it's a relief because I'd rather my smile stop her heart than a Malboro. I told her that and she considered never talking to me again because of how corny I was being. If anything, I'm glad she doesn't smoke because her teeth are as white as the snow suffocating the landscape. She asked me if I ever smoked a cigarette and I said no, because my hands would start to tremble at the idea of picking up another of one my father's habits.

We walked in the snow and, three steps and two breaths in, she asked me to stop. Reno bleeds other's blood, and it showed when she dug her hands into the snow to reveal a dog's frozen carcass.

"I saw the tip of his tail sticking out of the snow." She studied the dog's body and brushed some snow off of it's side. There was a wound, the size of a child's fist. Frozen blood stained matted fur, as the front and back legs seemed miles part. "He must have been so cold."

"Someone shot him," I looked at her, as a strand of blond hair cut her face in half when she turned to me.

"He doesn't have a collar...  I know what it's like to not have a home, too," she whispered to him.

I watched her, with her knees in the snow, cry. The tears slid down her cheek when she asked me if I thought that the dog's owner killed him.

"I don't know, Reno. I hope not."

She took off her left glove and wiped her face with a pinkish hand.  She turned to me,"Do you think my dad would **** me, if he could?"



The tree branches hung over the blanketed path, as clumps would fall off and plop frostbitten kisses on the bright, eggshell ground. Eventually we reached the grave of Hilary.

Hilary Natasha Drake
Born October 12, 2001
Died December 8, 2007
May God grant you access into his kingdom
as easily as he granted you access into our hearts.

"She was beautiful," Reno smiled, before she looked away. "My mother would always say, 'Hilary, don't you know how pretty you'll be?' ...She had these lily green eyes that lit up a room-I could have swore that she stole them from the garden of Eden. She was sweet, too. Too sweet. Too kind-hearted."

I felt my hand tighten, as I looked down to see Reno's fingers wrapped around me. Her eyes were holding hostage a flood, as her lip quivered as much as her voice.

"In nine minutes, it will be the anniversary of when we lost her. It was just too much for her and I understand, Hilary. I do.

"It ate her body and wouldn't stop. Every day she seemed thinner and thinner. I remember when she lost her hair. Hilary didn't want to wear a bandana or a cap. I asked her why and she said, 'There's nothing wrong with not having hair, pappy does it all the time.'

"She was so strong, Josh. Stronger than me. Stronger than my dad. When she died, the hospital bills and funeral expenses were too much. We lost everything. My dad lost himself.

"Then, my mother left when his drinking got bad... It was the night before Valentine's day. I remember because I was given so many flowers. I didn't understand why because flowers die, too.

"My mother didn't even say goodbye. She left the photo albums. I never got to say goodbye to her or Hilary and it's not fair because I love them so much. I love them more than anything."

Reno couldn't erupt into tears like they could in the movies. This was the scene where she was supposed to cry uncontrollably or have an epiphany that could alleviate the loss, but neither occurred.

"There's one thing I want you to know, Josh: You can't save me. Don't try, okay? Please, do not try to fix the broken pieces because you'll only cut yourself.

"But there's also another thing I want you to know: You can be there, as I fix myself. I want you to be there."

I looked at her and told her I wanted to be there too.

I think I understand why Reno doesn't smoke, now. The idea of possibly giving herself cancer, when it already has taken away everyone she loves, would take something away from Hilary's fight and only add to Reno's loss.

"I can cry over a dog, but not my sister," she whispered. Reno wiped her nose, looked at me and said, "Am I too much yet?"

"Of course not."



Sincerely,

Joshua Haines