Death is
one of a kind.
It takes adults, sure-handed through years of experience, and leaves them stumbling as toddlers. It takes love and makes a memory. It takes all that you value and slowly breaks it down. It is indifferent, sometimes unrelenting, and fires in any direction at any given moment.

All this, but

It can be more than just a vacant space.
It's hard to see in the moment, or even after, but death also means more than loss. It means you've had something worth missing. It means that every day prior to meeting death in any capacity, you had something valuable.

It's easy to see the vacant space that held your family, but not all vacant space has to be empty. It can be a reminder of the endless nights of laughter, the endless days of adventure. This is a reminder that canvas filled with your shared story is worth something, and will remain valuable as long as you still
remember.

just hold on, nothing is lost

The cup is full.
I can no longer absorb the things that retain our attention,
their burden is too much to bear.

I'm saying goodbye to what I don't need.
Goodbye, gunned assailants
Goodbye, facebook-shared liver cleanses
Goodbye, hatred
Goodbye, self-help anything

You're not welcome here anymore. All seats are taken. Move along, I'm sure there are chairs at other tables for you.

Goodbye, current events
Goodbye, whatever new political campaign has us up in arms
Goodbye, looming darkness that lingers in our periphery

I haven't time for you.

Goodbye, road to nowhere
Goodbye, helplessness

I'm moving on from you, old friends. I'm too tired to do this anymore. It's time for life, nothing less.

Goodbye,

Good riddance.

Suddenly, six years haven't passed.
I'm driving home from my first official job,
sun rising behind me and moon setting in front.
My hands stink of grease, grit, metal,
as a byproduct of lugging greasy, gritty
metal around the plant through all of the night. I'm tired.
My body cries out. It feels good, but I know that
Fall will give me something that makes sure
I don't have to come back here next summer.
My back burns, every movement bringing a new spasm.
I know I've got two Tylenol Extra Strength
waiting patiently for my arrival at home. I pull over at the side of the road to capture the moment. And maybe that's
why I remembered it tonight. Tonight,
six years have passed.
I'm several summers and a handful of jobs
removed from pulling metal bits around from sundown til
it rises again. I've got a piece of paper that says
I spent four years studying but I only really
spent a few weeks total, to be honest. I'm driving home
in the middle of winter, sand and salt rusting
my edges as the sun falls behind me again,
the moon acting as a guiding light to my front.
I'm coming from a place I never want to leave.
I'm going to a place I never want to leave.
It's easy to be torn, especially now,
without even taking notice of it. I'm happier for
it.

Impose no barricade.
There's no sense in waiting til the countdown ends.
There will always be another. 2018 is my year. 2020 is my year. 3001 is my year.
I'm on no golden throne here. I wait too, continuously, patiently, hoping tomorrow is brighter.
It won't be. I know it, you do too. Tomorrow never comes. We keep up our waiting, deciding that we're invincible and that time, this slowly crawling, aching forward sense of loss does not apply to us. It does.
Still, there's one way to not suffer such great a loss. We have
to make life worth our time. No more 'one day'. Be what you want. Do the thing.
A new year is not a reset. It is not a new beginning. When we decide to start chasing whatever it is that we need to be, that's when it starts.

I hope I gave you half of what you gave to me.
Both pups, grass-stained tussles; bites and scratches
that lead to misunderstood anger.
No, I'm not playing anymore. It's
time to go inside. Followed by
no more than five minutes of silence between us
until we were at it again.
All teeth and arms, pushing and grappling, clawing
like pups are apt to do.
When you were sleeping in the crate for
those first few months, I'd put my hand between
the bars, searching for my buddy; only
finding gnashing teeth, a wagging tail.
Our roles were well-defined, as far as you were concerned.

It wasn't overnight, but
I stopped rolling around (as much) and
your joints stiffened, in part because of the
years passing through us, in part
because of that one time (we're pretty sure)
you fell off the deck.
We both seemed to be fine
with it, taking the time every winter,
when your allergies would subside,
to throw snowballs and wrestle until
we were both too exhausted to get up from the snow.

The rest was calm, mostly, me
feigning excited chatter to incite
a tail wag and a big smile from you, maybe even
a **** wiggle if I was lucky. You, begging
for food at 6 PM, then 5 PM, pushing 4:30
dinner like the elderly tend to do. Your coat, not shining like it used to. Your smile, a little more offset as each ancient tooth
struggled to hold on.

I have no more to say.

You helped get me here, so thank you.

Thank you.

I'm at the edge.
behind, open
clear
free space, green in all directions. Blue skies
that I've met before, become acquainted with,
and have become my dearest friends. They
stand tall behind me, pushing forward,
encouraging
when fatigue becomes too much.
They are my sword, my shield.
in front, closed
full
just unknown. Trees piled high, no sky seen. No blue, still green looks down from above. This time,
though,
it's dark. It looks on, expectant.
Of what, I'm not exactly sure.
in front, there is thick brush
built of brambles, raspberry bushes, and dense, low
branches. They cut,
scrape skin and burrow deep for the
unexposed. They have no aim,
no end goal, but
they keep on growing, pushing up,
spreading, acre after acre,
demolishing what I aim
for myself to be. They swallow
me whole, or try, but . . .
Still, there is only one direction
I can go
from here.

Everything and turns it into something else.
Loss fades, work fades, life fades
til all you've got left is joy.
The Kingdom glistens. You walk down
American Dream Street, each square foot free from filth. Every
cast member greets you, as does
each and every guest, with joy. There
is nothing else permitted in the parks.
What you came with gets better, food tastes
better. Better better better.

Unimaginably better. A place
where disease melts away in the Florida sun before
a drip of it can fall to the pavement. We come
in droves, maybe unsure, but leaving with nothing
but mouse ear souvenirs
and awe, of course.