I forgot to close the curtain last night
The bedroom is flooded with brightness
White walls and white sheets and your big t-shirt keeping me warm
It's the perfect sunday morning
The calm breeze pushes beyond the courtain
Enticing summer scents flow past my nose
I wish every morning was a sunday one
I roll onto my side to look at you, the light slowly rousing you to wakefulness
I press my cool cheek to the sleep-warmed skin of your bare back and curl my fingers through your hair
My eyelashes flutter on your smooth skin as I blink the sleep from my eyes
You can feel them, tickling you
Your delicate, kiss swolen, perfect lips curl
The softest of smiles plays across them
The corners of your eyes crinkle
And open,
Blearily, to look into mine
You scoop me into your warm arms and your fingertips are lazy
As they trace patterns down my spine,
Coaxing out my sigh I save specially for you
We breathe
Summer air together
Every mornings like a sunday one with you

Here lies the bottom line of your existence:

Chemicals
Organs
Nerve endings
Fluids

Dust dust dust
An eventual nothing

August 4th, 1992
That night
My heart began beating
To the rhythm of
Two words
Samantha Shea
My baby girl
She was 9 pound 6 ounces
Of pure love and joy

Her mother’s eyes
My ears
But her smile
Was all her own
She seemed almost wise
Just staring blankly back
At me
Like she knew me
Better than I knew myself
I have never loved anyone
So much

I tried to give her all I could
Make her feel like a real princess
Make her feel safe
And loved
She grew up with things
Her mother and I
Only dreamed of as children
But she was never selfish
Never unkind

I never knew
How much she hated herself
Until I noticed that her arms
Made her look like war veteran
And her eyes
Like those of a ghost
A lost soul wandering around
Lost and Suffering

Could it be that hard
To be a teenage girl
Could it be that hard
To have everything
Handed to you
Everyone love you

That night I saw her as
Nothing but selfish and unkind
I mean how could she do this to us
To herself
I looked her in the eyes and asked
Why
With a single tear running down her face
Resembling a winter’s first snowflake
Or a desert’s first raindrop
She let out the words
“I wasn’t meant for this world”
No you were meant for me
You are my world

I wanted to wipe her tears
And heal her scars
Her years of fear and self-loathing
Was no match for my love
My compassion
My understanding

I spent the next two weeks
Helpless, lost, and confused
By the time we had found her
The bath water was as cold as my heart
The floor stained with drops of
Complete sadness
No note
I cried until I was
Red in my face and
Blue in my heart

A parent should never
Have to bury their child
So we had her cremated
We figured that
She spent 16 years
Stuck in her own box
She shouldn’t have to be
Buried in one

I’ve never loved anyone
So much

I want to watch all
The teeth fall out
Of my mouth
My eyes sink
Into my skull
Every hair
Fall out of my head

Brittle nails and blue fingertips
Yellowing patches
And skin
Clear enough to see rivers
Flowing beneath
Canvased tight,
as if my bones
Are just hoping to break free

To cut through
The canvas with
The knife my grandfather
Gave me
Spilling everything

Every word
I could never get out
Every time getting
Caught on
The tip of my tongue

No glass half full
Or half empty
I want to be as shallow
as it gets

When the waves
Crash against the shoreline
Making their way up
To meet your sand-covered toes,
That is as shallow as
The water gets

I could never
Be so versatile
As the ocean

I have to choose,
And what’s the point of
Such strong feelings
If they are always trapped
And writhing
On my inside

- S.G.

I know how you feel
At 4am when everything should be
Quiet; eyes closed,
Breath steady at an even pace,
Keeping pace with the subtle rhythm
Of your pulsing heart.
Nothing stirs, here,
Besides your afflicted mind,
A testament to all the
Late night infomercials
And dimly lit gas station windows:
Dutifully droning on
Amidst the sleepy silhouette
Of normalcy and a good eight hour rest.
There's no use fooling yourself,
Closing your eyes and heavily counting off
Sheep, in a vain attempt to assimilate
Something like sleep-
There's no point trying, here,
When a sliver of sky outside your window
Starts to turn a subtle shade lighter
Than 2am darkness.
Being alone is never as poignant
As when you're woken up in the middle
Of the night,
Surrounded by dark space
And stagnant memories, impartial
To the emptiness of a moment.
I know how you feel,
Restlessly turning your body
To face the wall,
Adjusting your lumpy feather pillow,
Peeling off your socks:
Routine can cure the coldest hearts,
But sleep will always elude it.
Stuck within your impetuous rituals,
Solitude seeps in
Through your open eyelids;
4am drips into 5am,
And before you know it,
Everything is gone.