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i never knew silence that much
until that very afternoon
when i tried so much
to hold my teardrops
and hide the sobs
that were exploding inside
my weary body
and my wrecked soul

i wonder,
if i was found dead that day,
would they think 'twas suicide
or would the police say,
"she was slain by the silence
that was enclasped within her solitude"?
"she didn't want to take her life, she was murdered by the messes life threw at her." the police added
 May 2017 everlasting cherry
TG
A storm of petals
a cheery blossom blooming
hands barely touching
hearts in synchronicity
two strangers falling in love
A tanka
 Apr 2017 everlasting cherry
TG
I count the atoms in
the desert inside the hourglass
awaiting the day, we finally meet once more
as ashes returning among the stars.
They don't go down easy
these words meant to soothe
they'll come back up later
with bile
churning and roiling

"asleep"?
"peaceful"?
platitudes!

"time heals"?
banality!

like the hapless frog
suspended in his jar
awaiting the curious blade
of the laboratory scholar

this unnatural heap of flesh
****** dry
then
pumped with chemicals
smeared with freakish makeup
collects the gawking stares

or the brief furtive glances

"Look!"
my mind shrieks
you came to look
but
you don't see

Memories
you say

This memory
this scene
this awkward scene
will play in my mind
like the test pattern
on old TV's

fixed there
humming its eerie monotone
in
black and white
I have always hated the idea of trying to make a dead body look "good".
I remember when my dad died people saying "he looks good" ...I wanted to scream "He doesn't look good! He looks dead!"
I plan to be cremated.
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