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Mistakes can become Motifs,
and that doesn't at all have to be a bad thing!

It's all a matter of application.
The hearts of the dead,
Beat, broken, in perfect time,
Until forgotten.
I've never met anyone like you

You actually like me for me

when do people actually find that these days?
(I love) Dignity

tearing words apart,
a part
of  a joy I cannot
explain or share exactly


knew a man once,
forty two years gone,
died too soon enough,
soon enough,
he and I will be
the same age

this man
a duck out of water,
a stranger in an adopted land,
trouble-stooped, a hard life, well lived,
never bent,
dignified in every step

I cannot remember him
ever kissing me, tousling my hair,
holding my hand, loving me in
a manner I wanted beyond  desperately

yet here I am, 5:22 am
weeping tears recalling him
in glimpses long ago seen,
adding them all up to get a
single sum

Dignity.

tearing words apart,
a part
of a joy I cannot/explain,
share precisely


dig
in
to
my
chambered memory storage units,
unlocking those rusted locks with freshly oiled
tears
and loving the dignity he exampled

to the son he could not kiss, hand hold,
but taught him the one lesson, digging deep
to respect life and stand apart,
stand with dignity.

all else will follow

the son kissed his children plenty,
in a vain attempt to make up his missed
homework

now the grandfather,
now the grandfather
is still kissing
his last hope, his newest babes,
rolling on the floor,
so silly kissing belly buttons,
smelling their skin repeatedly,

in a manner most
undignified

still weeping
the son,
he tries to sort it out

and forgives and does not forget
the man that taught dignity
in everything,
even, especially,
in slow dying,

forty two years is a long time to wait
to weep.

it takes two hands in the dark
repeatedly
to collect all the waiting patiently
wetness and the
accompanied sniffles,
so undignified,
the son smiles at himself
declaring unabashedly,
digging out from himself
a poem, a self-reflection
on time tarnished reflections
clear enough to make him
sob,
believing

I love dignity.
for my father...
There's a knot in my throat
That fills me with tears that drown me not allowing me to float.
Causing me to lose hope in everything I believed to once be true .
Making  me feel like the world's biggest fool.
I've never felt this low.
Contemplating cutting my ears off like Vincent Van Gogh.
Just so I would no longer have to hear those lies .
So I could be free to be the owl who once spread her wings across that starry night sky.
If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you collect them like rain,
Store them in jars,
That are labelled with "Pain"

Would you follow their tracks,
From my eyes down my cheeks,
As they write all their stories,
I'm too scared to speak.

Would you stop them with kisses,
Bring their flow to a halt,
As you teach me that pain,
Isn't always my fault.

Would you hold my face gently,
As you dry both my eyes,
And whisper the words,
"You're too precious to cry"

If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you show me your own,
And though we're lonely,
We were never alone.
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