Andy...

You are not alive anymore.

You will never read this as a living breathing human anymore, you will never click on this poem and read my name and be blinded by the brightness of the screen, but I wanted to post this anyway. I wonder if you are watching me type this in spirit form or if you are doing something else but, just know that I'm glad. I'm glad you are not suffering anymore from the dread. I'm glad you are not scared anymore, because waiting is the worst. I grieve for your family and I'm heartbroken for your friends, and all who loved you but you were truly the most inspiring person I have ever had the privilege to speak to. I hope from heaven you can see me, I really hope now you know my real name because it probably doesn't make a difference but it's something I wanted to tell you because, I mean, that's a part of my identity, that's me, and I loved your soul. I loved listening to you, I loved reading what you had to say I loved watching the people who's lives you touched be inspired by the amazing person you were and you know what, it felt wrong for you not to know my name but I am very wary on the internet, I don't give out personal information so I stuck to my screen name, symbolic for something deeper, a deeper part of me, so in a way it was a part of my identity like a name but it still wasn't my real name.

The cancer killed your body, but nothing could possibly **** your soul, and I hope to God you are happy now that you have passed on because if anyone deserves it, it is you Andy.

I think “Rest In Peace” has lost its meaning from overuse by now, so instead I will say

Rest happily, Andy.

“And” is a part of your name, Andy
And you were the “and” in everyone you met’s lives. Something additionalto people’s lives to remind them that there is an and not just the depression or sadness they feel in their lives there is an and to go along with their burdens and that and was HOPE. You were hope. I hope you are okay, I pray for you and like I said before, Andy, I don’t know where you are but if you read this where ever you are in whatever form somehow Andy as I said before I don’t know what you are facing, what is going on right now with you now that you have passed on but like I said before it’s okay to be afraid.

I don’t know what else to say.

There will never be another person like you ever for the rest of eternity, so thank you, for being you and wherever and whatever you are, I hope you Rest Happily Andy, and I thank God for the beautiful blessing I was given: Knowing you.

Ember Evanescent

She is no heaven
She brings no hell
A tender mess of earth
She smells of pure mud

Up at the sky, I look at myself
Burning inside with zillions stars
-Just to light her up
-Just to see her shine

She revolves in way
-such mystifying
Alluring with those twists,
swooshing her hair of curly forest
,eyes with reserved invitation
Refusing to shine on my lights

Its not mere coincidence
when stars fall on sky
Its me , my egos falling
its me, my gods getting high
its me, falling on my knees

pulled by desires of temptation
to smell the rain on mud
to get drowned in ocean of love
To whisper under her hair
close to her eyes
at her dimples
swirling round- dizzy and elated
With time stuck
all stars at brightest
moons lost
heaven crushed
hell forgotten
vanishing
anihilated
with breath that will take forever
I whisper words... to be forever true
aahhyi lloveee yyyyyu

So they told me of the deepest scars
And let me shush
They let me try to help
And that I did

So I smile for them
And scar for them
Let these secrets sink in
To never return

I still think about them though
I wonder why they told me
I wonder why they came to me
I feel like a different person

So I lay here
Close to the wall
And I hear the birds call
For death has been coming near

There is secret
I haven't told them
I can't let them worry
And I can't let them see

I smile at the laughs
Pretending they won't be the last
And getting ready
To hang my wrists

Yet all truths have an end
And it's done to play pretend
I need to tell you all something
I'm dying

wish i wrote dark, about deep insecurities,

a struggling childhood, i wish i wrote

like others with words of wonderfull

syllables,  bells ringing,

you know.



wish i wrote long tomes, to bore myself

rigid. to tap the hours away till bedtime,

early.



wonder if i shall write serious,

tell thee all  hard stories that

don't exist. i wonder if i shall stop,

when no one reads.



this is a time to wonder at the

dark hours leaving, waters receding,

black trees slowly turning. wintergreen.



sbm.