He was reading
So was she
She was giggling
Full of glee
His heart stopped
When their eyes met
She knew it'll be the first
She would never forget

He tried to approach her
But to no avail
His heart pumped faster
He knew he would fail

She was eagerly waiting
Wondering why he didn't move
Is there something on her face?
Did something came loose?

He broke through enmity
Believing it could be more
He got up and accidentally-
Yelled his name out!
"CAN WE BE FRIENDS!?"

She laughed so loud
He thought she was like the rest
He was about to leave
When she pulled him
*"Hi, my name is …….."

step 1: de·ni·al
noun
the action of declaring something to be untrue.
i thought about sending you an email today.
i got through four drafts before i quit.
i haven't talked to you in three months. i haven't deleted your messages in three months. i haven't stopped thinking about you in three months. my heart is still synced with yours. it stopped beating 131,487 minutes ago. please leave a message after the beep.

step 2: an·ger
noun
a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.
i'm glad you're gone. you were a house but you were never a home for me. i've moved three times since i left.
you shoved your fingers down my throat and left me retching in the snow, excuses tripping on their way out of your cherry bitten lips.
you made me your slaughterhouse, blood on my hands and heart.
i am made of too many things, a conglomeration the size of a galaxy, thirty people sewn into my skin. there is a hole in my chest the size of your fist. please leave a message after the beep.

step 3: bar·gain
verb
negotiate the terms and conditions of a transaction.
(maybe if i had loved you a little less you would have learned to love me back)

step 4: de·pres·sion
noun
severe despondency and dejection, typically felt over a period of time and accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy.
i spent more time thinking about you than i ever did about myself. i'm not sure if this is selfish or selfless and i'm not sure if i know the difference. i hung up on you once and you didn't speak to me for a week and i'm not sure if this is love or hatred and i'm not sure if i know the difference. i haven't spoken to you in seven months. please leave a message after the beep.

step 5: ac·cept·ance
noun
agreement with or belief in an idea, opinion, or explanation.**
you told me that acceptance was the same as tolerance.
i don't think i believe you.
i haven't spoken to you in twelve months.
please leave a message after the beep.

It doesn't make sense,
your name hums in my brain.
My heart is in despair.
My eyes burn from the pain.

Dear God,
I'm sure the stars aligned whilst you were created.
Every freckle on your skin
has a secret beneath it.
Just like the way your arms are carved,
by angels, I fully believe.

You're in my veins,
and I swear, I wish to rip you off.
You're injected in my bloodstream.
But my eyes have no more tears,
to long for you,
and your big bright eyes.

Intuition failed me.
I believed every word your mouth gently spoke,
shy and hidden,
with your cheeks blushed,
and your eyes closed.
God, I thought you were perfect.

And we could speak in a way,
we only understood.
I remember your eyes got watery,
in place of the 'I love you'
you tried to voice,
but it just wasn't true.

And when I talk about you,
I'm verbose.
From every feeling I've bottled up.
From your toxic love.
And God, I wish to hate you.
But I don't.

Then there was lust,
and alcohol,
and a beach full of sand.

And every grain of sand remembers,
how you grabbed my hand.
How you didn't even grasp for air,
when you kissed my mouth.
In complete madness,
hopelessly,
such as if tomorrow
simply wouldn't make the scene.

You knew you'd lost me,
it was our last goodbye.
I hope she was worth the while.

I wish you fall in love,
and get your heart broken,
shattered to pieces.
And that there's no one there,
to help you fix it.

I hope you find yourself,
alone,
glueing the pieces,
cut with every one of them
that once read my name.
And that you feel small,
maybe you'll forget about yourself,
for once,
and feel sorry,
for every single one of your games.

And you destroyed me,
to bits,
and pieces.
But I've picked myself up,
slowly and without help,
erasing your name from my heart.

And now that I'm aware,
and not dozed off,
from your green gleaming eyes,
and the love you promised,
that didn't come by.

How I wish,
oh I wish,
when you offered me the world,
I would've said I had my own.

In the annals of New York City
An amazing hero is acclaimed,
Known as "The man in the red bandana"
Welles Remy Crowther was his name.

Born in Nineteen seventy seven,
This New Yorker, born and bred,
Could have escaped death's destruction,
But chose to rescue folks instead.

All his life he cared for people,
Loved his family, kept them dear,
But on that day of 9/11
His higher purpose became clear.

An Honor Student, Lacrosse player,
Former fire fighter, too,
When explosions rocked the building,
Welles knew what he must do.

Rescuing with calm authority,
Directing people toward the doors,
He found a woman so disabled
He carried her to the 61st floor.

In the end, before death took him,
Twelve people were brought out, saved.
No one knows where Welles is buried
In his 9/11 grave.

Later, when his mother told
Of the red bandana Welles had,
The survivors saw his picture,
And knew Welles was the brave lad.

Only 26 years old,
Welles Crowther manned up in strife,
That young man is New York's hero...

... for twelve gave HIS VERY LIFE.


Soul Survivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 11, 2014
13th anniversary of 9/11