"When I dropped him, I shattered"**
the jagged body parts that hadn't
seen a regular shower since the
sadness kicked in
slit into my arms in shapes
people only recognise as a
cry for help.

I recoil from my reflection,
even my face feels foreign
but that doesn't compare to this
detachment; being unable to
recognise my own family in
a sea of unknown faces.
Bruises that I don't remember,
no recollection of a time before.

My body is in a state of flux,
moving with the objects
around me and no matter
how hard I try to ground myself,
6 hours becomes 24 becomes 48
and I'm screaming out for attention
silently, hoping that someone will
convince me that it is real.
That I am me and you are you -
just don't shut your eyes;
the darkness is where it really begins.

sometimes strength is not
how many weights you can lift at once
or the many burdens you can carry alone
not even how your heavy heart can still beat
sometimes, strength can simply be
waking, again and again,
facing the same agony each day
and yet still waking each morning
facing the sun and the rain
and being brave

.
  •sharpened to                                  • prowling  this
  a point•made                                     hallowed night
  to sink easily                                      •to satiate my  
    into flesh •                                         hunger   pa-    
     power   to                                            ngs• know    
     maim and                                            my name      
    disjoint•                                            as i take    
       spilling                                             flight  •      
       blood,                        ­                    cower      
          warm                                          as i ba-      
           and                                         re my      
          fre-                                      fan-        
         sh                                   gs        
•                                •

We thought of you with love today,
But that is nothing new.
We thought about you yesterday.
And days before that too.
We think of you in silence.
We often speak your name.
Now all we have is memories.
And your picture in a frame.
Your memory is our keepsake.
With which we'll never part.
God has you in his keeping.
We have you in our heart.