And I would give you wings
If I felt that you couldn't overcome these things
When you fall down I’ll pick you up
Yes I know that you have hurt, you’ve hurt enough
But you must get up, you must go on
For me, for me you’ve got to be strong*


Where are you,
Bird's tools of survival
Angel's way of transportation
Plane's means of flight

Of course, when needed the most you fail to appear.
And you promised
You promised to give me them,
Why would you lie?

It seems a folly
To think that there ever is a chance of healing
But why would I want wings anyways?
To carry me away from the pain? Only momentarily would it help.

I don't want to heal,
Completely anyways,
Don't want to fly away on my wings,
Because to heal would be to forget everything good about you...

Would be to forget everything good about *us

The silver threads that hang from his scalp drape gently onto the crisp outline of his neckline

Dried, frail lips, etched on by ancient carving tools across the rickety bones that make up his jawline

And hands, constructed so beautifully

A working man's hands, wear-and-tear evident through scars and gashes

Yet his mind, so complete in every aspect
Able to solve all problems, able to mend all sadness with powerful phrases full of wisdom
Eons it takes to gain this wisdom, yet minutes it takes to share

I've been thinking about our hug you left me with yesterday,
The one that convulsed my shoulder muscles and made my ribs cry just a little,
But a good cry, like the happy tears after holding a new puppy.
You said in that way,
As you have made a habit of
With sarcasm and sincerity,
"You'll always be my sweetheart",
And then you said that you won't call me your sweetheart in public.
That makes me so angry,
And you think I'm joking,
But I'm not.
Because I can't stop thinking about how those hugs and "sweethearts" are dwindling,
How each time you leave for a winter in the southern states
I cringe at the thought that I may never greet you for Easter next year.
And every time we find you asleep,
Open mouthed on the couch
We only panic for a second as to whether you will wake up this time.

You stand like a family monument,
So unique in composition,
With your structured titanium back and chiseled limestone arms that threw me playfully and carried me as your cowgirl,
And transformed our red, wooden house to sophisticated tan siding when I was too young to remember,
With your skin so dark from perma-tan I thought you were black when I was 6,
With your infinite woodworking skills and artistic envisions with architecture
That crafted dollhouses and swing sets for me at 8,
With your callused hands beyond remission and your ever bruising fingernails that paddled us down the Ausable at 13,
With your steel toed boots sewn into your feet that allowed me to dance on them till I was 15,
With your artificial heart valve and five open heart surgeries.
Once I thought it was instrumental, magical, the watch nestled under your ribs.
But now every time I get that gut squeezing hug as a goodbye I can hear that valve faintly tick,
And I pretend it's not your clock,
Trembling with each diastolic and Systolic murmur,
Gears cracking and eroding inside your kindled muscles,
Struggling to keep up with its more natural brothers inside that engulfing muscle,
That which reminds your family of
Your selfless and infinitely giving persona.
But it only reminds me that your days of rock polishing
And dentured smiles are ending rapidly.

So excuse me while I dump out my Starbucks in the fridge
and paper shred my valued customer card.

Let me hate coffee for you,
Because you're the only person I've been willing to hate coffee for in three years.
Those other boys could never tear me from the coffee shop counter,
I would latch on like a koala to a tree limb,
Thirsting for that satisfying and hypnotizing liquid.

Let me loath coffee for you,
Because I haven't been so excited about loathing coffee in three years.
Its tantalizing aromatics will woo me no more.
The other men in my life have no affect on my love affair with these beans,
Their scents loop around my neck and drag me in,
The craving becomes irrefutable,
My bones creak with each body convulgence
In response to the grinders on the espresso machines.

Please let me get you a drink,
Orange juice? Milk?
Gatorade?
I swear, I'll keep coffee as far away as possible at all times,
Avoiding every Dunkin' Donuts while driving,
Every quaint mom-and-pop coffee shop while walking,
And flight attendants will never dare bring a coffee ***
on their food cart when we fly.

I won't ***** this up with the **** coffee,
Because perhaps it was coffee the last three times that left things in rancid rot,
The filters from yesterday's shift never disposed of.

Let's go anywhere but a coffee shop together,
Let's go everywhere but a coffee shop forever.
And I promise,
I won't even try and sneak a latte around you,
But can I please keep my chai tea?

You won't see me as I walk through the door
I'll go swiftly, maybe you won't notice
As I disassemble all we have built up
You won't see me as I break the billions of bonds we had
The millions of moments we had been through
The thousands of thoughts we shared
You won't see me as I destroy it all

I'll make it easy,

I promise