I will bury my
Picture in
The dark earth for
The worms to
Rip and
The dirt to
consume
My past being
Just a
Young girl with
Unwrinkled skin and
An uncomplicated smile
She is now
Dead and burried and
I am no
Longer in that
Girl's shadow

Again you ask me
But the cellos
Trill loudly so
I can pretend
Not to hear
The same old question
That passes your lips
A dismal cliché
I am forced upon
So much that I
Am used to
The silly idea
You suggest
But now I listen
Only to the cellos
And let their voices
Rest on me
I only half feel
You grab my hand
To tell me you’ll
Ask me again
Tomorrow like
You did yesterday

All I see is
His nose on
Your face so
All I see
Is him
Sitting across
From me sipping
Coffee in
Bygone days of
Snow and light

(I will apologize in advance for the childishness of this poem, I was 14 when I wrote it)

I am still
Six years old
Holding your hand
At the zoo
Because you won't
Let me get
Any older

Cancer isn’t catchy so
I can ride in cabs and
Work for a
While longer
Try not to
Resent the
Unaffected
Cancer isn’t catchy so
I can hold our
Daughter and
hug her when
She cries
And borrow her Teddy
When I need him
Cancer isn’t catchy so
You can stand
By my side
Eat with me
And let me
Wear your shirts
And boxer shorts
Cancer isn’t catchy so
You can kiss me
All the time
Lay next to me
And dry my eyes
When all this pain
Is just too much
Cancer caught me so
I’ll have to
Leave you soon
I want your face
And hers
To be the last things
I ever see

Hearts of gold,
In pits of silver.

I feel
Phantom kisses
On my lips and
Everywhere else