how many ways must i give you up?
grief is just a sport for lucid and the lame.
how many boughs till i break this falling-
to the mossy hill below?
where grief is just a shallow pool
with reflections of me beautifully crying
We ugly mourners live to talk.
selfish shallow pool of grief-
my yellow rainboots fall madly
upon my mirrored head.
i am just a puddle
and i wear it like a man because
sometimes...
grief is just a tailored suit
all dressed up in pawpaws best
neatly pressed.
the seams of your life sewn in a straight line.
it's easy to compartmentalize the times you weren't your greatest you.
in death you leave the lovely
behind
and take away the rest.
in life you leave the death
behind and take away the lovely such a wasted irony.
grief is valentine.
wont you be mine pinks and whites? sugared promises of time.
grief is a lovers candy heart. sentiments on marble etch the total of our time.
grief of mine, such weather beaten blanket. when did she become my lover?
cast aside your sadness.
grief is a friend of mine, grief is a friend of mine.

Sahn 4/22/2014

I spill out not only ink onto the paper...
but my soul,
my deepest fears,
a few hopes and dreams,
but also some lost things.

Billions of people in this world
But only a few truly care.
If you happen
To find someone...
Who makes you laugh everyday,
Who would go out of their way
Just to see you're okay,
Who watches out for you,
Who wants to bring out the best in you,
Who respects you,
Who, no matter how many flaws you have
And how imperfect you can be,
Will love you unconditionally,
Never dare lose that person.
Hold them dear
Coz people like that are hard to find
Surely a true precious gem                
Worth treasuring and loving for eternity.

I went for a run today
to test out my lungs, my back,
my once-strong core
Here, miles from home
the streets offer no reference point
So I run not knowing what to expect

Every foot-strike
echoes back the memory
of several falls--each,
with their own, signature pain

One year

One year
Nestled deep in these muscles,
these bones
I dig in, hug my spine
and keep running

I continue through
a cemetery trail
It's quiet, pretty
There is nothing to know
of the lives
beneath the stones I pass
But they are my markers--
Increment by increment

At the centre of the cemetery
A path, lined with Texan flags
slopes up towards the exit
Above it stands a great
Lone Star

I fix on it,
As the billowing, spectator-flags
wave me out

I wave back
and leave the graveyard