lillies.
they're pretty.

i see them
on my morning walks --
they adorn the footpath.

im about to buy some
in a boquet,
tied in with some tulips
and leaves as spacers.

they're for my new partner.

but whenever i see
these lillies,
i can only
think
of
you.

maybe because your essence
was just like the lily's --
you were elegant,
compassionate,
and you loved everyone
with the biggest
heart and smiles.

i know its wrong,
to still think of you.

but these lillies --
they're everywhere i go.
i wouldn't take it as a sign
but i know it means
something.

i shouldn't be buying these
for my new partner,
she isn't elegant
like you,
or have a big smile
like you did,
so why do i buy them?
or walk the same footpath
every morning
just
to
see
them?

i don't know.

it wasn't my fault.
i didn't mean to,
i swear.
i would never go
out of my way --
intentionally,
to upset you like that.
i hate seeing you like that!

why do you think i did it?
do you really think
that little of me?

i would never hurt you
because i wanted to.
i never want to.

we learn
the abcs
by repeating them.
we learn
how to do things right
by doing them
every day.
so why is it
so hard
to learn kindness?
don’t we
repeat it
every day?

life is beautiful --
but you can't find
the beauty 
in the world,
in your life,
if you're not looking,
or admiring
the space
around you
and within others.

i wasn't searching
for anything --
until i started searching for
love,
only then
i begun to find
little heart shapes
in everything.

bread, 
street cracks,
pages in schoolbooks,
doorways,
steak,
fabric folds, 
car reflections,
freckles --
even those.

i thought
i was losing it --
seeing things.
until i realised,
i was searching for love,
and love
was finding me
the most unique places.
and it was beautiful.

so start looking
around you --
at the little things,
in the quiet.
maybe then
you'll find something
that helps you
heal
and find the beauty
in living 
and something
that reminds you
why living
matters.

run
run
run --
run away as fast
as you possibly can.
get away.
get out of that place.

you don't know the
horrors of being there
like i do.

trust me,
and run.
run
run
run.
as fast as you can.

get away
before you
make it out
barely breathing.

covered in blood,
missing a limb,
open wounds,
a pounding headache,
a swollen ankle --
just run no matter
what it takes.

you don't understand
the horror
like i do.

i toss and turn,
unable to sleep
away from you --
you,
my safe place.

my home.

what happens after death?
no one really knows.
and honestly --
i don't think
i want to know.

some say
you go to heaven.
or hell.

others like to believe in
the afterlife,
in ghosts,
in wandering,
in haunting what's
left behind.

but me?
i just like to think
its just
that it's a kind of closure.
one thats quiet,
and final.
the kind that doesnt need
to be explained.