I remember
when I was younger
and I asked what it was like to grow up.
They just shook their heads and said
"Stay young while you can."
I never really understood what that meant
until I turned fourteen
and everything started changing
and things got harder.
I didn't know why my aunt sometimes cried late at night
when my uncle was at work.
And why my parents were quiet
when they had to say no to a trip to Florida
with their friends.
And why my best friend
didn't talk to me anymore
and wore that dark make up that made her blue eyes grey.
I didn't know why my brother kept getting more pale
or why his eyes looked sunken in, and he was always tired.
I just know that he missed a lot of school and spent a lot of time in the hospital.
I didn't know why I was feeling more sad
as I got older
and why it got harder to smile.
But then I found out that
the reason my aunt cried was because
her husband had cheated on her and she still forgave him.
I found out the reason my parents said no to their trip
was because my father lost his job.
I found out, that the reason my best friend stopped talking to me
was because some older girls gave her
a choice - me, or  them.
And the reason she wore the dark make up
was because an older boy told her she wasn't pretty enough
for him.
I found out that my brother was dying.
cancer.
he was leaving us soon. we're trying to make the best of the time we have.
And I found out the reason I just kept getting more sad
and why my smiles didn't come anymore
was because I was something called
'Depressed.' and because I was smart enough to understand
the struggles people faced
and how they felt.

she had the most beautiful smile
and i bet you didn't know.
her eyes were like the sunrise
but once she got home
she looked herself at a mirror
and didn't like what she saw.
her eyes turned into sunset
so she became blind
in a world of wonders
but not wonders in her world.

You're the newest
Penny
In my couch.
Forgotten, and
Next to worthless.

It's been a dance, a long and lovely dance
Sparked by innocence across a thousand miles
And as the weeks went by there grew a knowing
We found our dancing legs and friendship turned to fire
I held you tight in my dreams each night
And we realized that there was more to come

It's been a dance, I moved a thousand miles
We shared a little bed, a rental house, and wide-eyed smiles
And then our son arrived, a blended family
With joys and challenges
Love and insecurities
But I held you tight in my arms each night
We'd greet the dawn, your head upon my heart

It's been a dance, sacred and holy
Fractured and lonely, for in time we lost our way
I would reach out to you, and you'd reach out to me
But our timing slipped as life got in the way
Then I hurt you so, and you hurt me so
And the pain drove us both down to our knees

It's been a dance, now comes the best part
We grew our wings again, remembered how to fly
Was it a miracle, or just unstoppable
Baptized by fire, anointed from on high
And I hold you tight in my arms each night
You're the closest thing to heaven that I've known

Now take my hand, the band is playing
Share this one last dance before I have to go
Kiss the kids for me, hold them tenderly
Tell them it won't be long before Dad gets back home
And I'll hold you tight in my dreams each night
You'll be the face that I see when I awake
The dance goes on and on
You will wait for me, I'll return to you
The dance goes on and on
I am home to you, you are home to me
The dance goes on

It seems so far away
My youth preserved that precious little thread
Convinced a price I’d never pay
Convinced I’d never be dead
I thought my skin iron armor
A shield to all the shifting forces
The forces that nature threw at me
Until I saw life at its sources
And for lasting life, was my loudest plea
Never before
Have I seen so visceral a scene
Until I witnessed life escape, stripped to its very core
And on that pavement, so impressive a rouge sheen
Tears shed from my iris
Like I could change the horror
And shrieking like my efforts pious
Calling life, to my side I implore her
For him, I beg her company
For me, I’m no source of council
Though I cry, don’t trouble me
For I’m not the one that woman killed
I can’t express my grief
No petty conglomerate
Could afford me relief
For I’m not the one that woman killed
His blood was steaming
On that September road
By the sidewalk, dun and grey
Like life between its anti and node
I can only cry so much
Before it no longer matters
And it becomes another event, such and such
And its significance becomes a thought, to the floor it clatters.
Don’t cry for me, though I’m rife with ill
I don’t need it
I’m still alive
I’m not the one that woman killed
Think about that body rushed away
On determined heels
To the hospital, on precious time played
His fate, despite man, sealed
I’m not there, no fruit to give
My presence not by his dying side
Though he screams to the empty, futile air
My efforts can’t discourage his departure nigh
Though the sun may rise
Thougt the babe born
Though the shoot will rise
I will still morn
His loss, the rotting human soul
That sits in a wooden box, rested in the solemn hearse
Carried off by the bearer of palls
And buried deep beneath the earth
I’ll lament the loss, I’ve lost it
So very suddenly placed, without abet
This event so caustic
I’m face to face with death
But I’m not the one you should morn
Despite the tears streaming from my face
I’m not the one with the greatest of ills
I’m not the one you should be praying for
For, I’m not the one who that woman killed.

The boy, with the dent in his chest, inhales so loudly
that his ribs pop with a resounding boom. They shatter and collapse,
sinking to his feet. His life is lived slumped over, never making eye
contact because he believes it is a spell. His spine grows twisted, broken,
bent. His heart is locked away in a bone prison. With his eyes to the ground,
he is running blindly forward into a sea of decisions and failure. His
confused feet charge him head first into the girl with the swollen skin. She
sees his spine and ribcage ankles as intriguing, and he doesn't mind her welts.

He touches her, feels her, learns her.
She holds him, feels him, learns him.
She is his, and he belongs to her.
They are each other.

He sees the world, sees everything he was never seeing. Her welts become
a foreign thing to him. She was different, less beautiful compared to the sights
he was now seeing. Her mind tried its hardest to forget his twisted nature. She
could only remember how he felt her skin and called it amazing, stunning.
Her skin welted in his memory; his spine curled in hers, but snapped back
straight when she called for him. She shouted a final plea for the future.
He whooped and hollered and yelled so loudly that his inhale broke his
ribs and sunk them back to his feet,
as his head slid back into its horizontal position.