Anxiety.
The evil twin of an adrenaline rush.
Heart starts pounding, forehead, palms are sweating.
Pupils dilate and then begins the nervous twitching, the restless attempts at sleep.
Staring at a digital clock. Is it morning yet? No. It’s 2am.
And all I can think about is what I should of said differently.
Maybe a minute sooner. Or a minute later?
I can stand at the pulpit of “Just relax, Don’t stress, Don’t worry about it” all night and day, but I couldn’t possibly practice what I’m preaching.
I continue resisting, but my efforts are worthless I feel.
Cursed, will I bear this disease always?
An invisible cancer, no can see it, but my heart is burdened
Heart break, heart ache.
The fear of no equilibrium, and now my fear is reality.
My chest now has been torn into and the contents have been burned.
My mind rushes to help, but logic is defeated by the guessing and the unknown.
Am I mad? Am I alone?
Please. save. me.

Robots?
Lifeless and nobody cares enough to make a change
If eyes are windows to your soul,
Then I guess I see broken hearts everyday

I see desperate kids, from broken homes
They are our lepers of ancient Rome
Who long to feel the sensation of love
But are rejected and cast aside, scoffed at and beat down
Passerbys turn away and won't look, show kindness or care
But instead they have nothing, because I guess no one has any love to spare

To the rejected, the down trodden, the beaten, the lonely, the depressed
To those who seek escape in the stabbing of a needle, or the inhaling of poisonous smoke
I'm sorry for the hatred and contempt you're shown.
I promise to never refuse you a smile and to always give you time.
I pray you're given that drink, your thirsting lips seek.

Now it might be hard to understand
But just for a moment I ask that you try to comprehend
The idea, the marvel, the miracle
Of learning love’s true definition from a child less than 3 years young

Her name was Amelia Lyon, but she was called Amy Lou
And her hair was up like Whoville’s own Cindy Lou Who
Dr. Suess would’ve been proud
I’m sure he would’ve loved Amelia, as did every single person of every single crowd

We would bring her with us to Disneyland
The happiest place on earth for both woman and man
And little Amy loved every second of it
With a wide smile, never crying, not even a bit

Bearing the power of a simple smile, and a thousand suns
She would light the very streets she crossed

Reaching out and attacking strangers was far from seldom
With a beautiful kiss of innocence, sincerity, we watched as joy would blossom

Did she discriminate?
Did she decide who to incriminate?
No, you see, Amelia would never
If someone was hurt, and broken, she could make all things better

A beautiful soul
To match a beautiful girl
I learned, let me tell you
What true love is, something new
Something that is rarely practiced
But only talked about, and the fact is
I’ve never seen love quite like this!

It was sincere, and it was real and it was amazing
A special perspective, a new trail she was blazing
And now I know what true love is
Humble, supportive, and nonjudgemental
Kind, gorgeous and always gentle

Thank You, Amy Lou.
One day, I hope to be like you.

But now she's gone, at two and a half you were taken from us
So unique, Heaven, God, and the Angels were jealous
Do I feel robbed? Do I feel cheated?
Certainly not! Because I know who I shall see when I am greeted

There she will be, adorable and precious
That gleaming smile with a child’s eyes
At the opening of the Gates, it will be glorious
Because finally, that disguise, that shroud of earthliness
Will have been torn away, and we will forever be united again

My baby sister, my Amelia Lyon, my Amy Lou
I miss you so very dearly, my little Cindy Lou Who
With love, bittersweet tears, and a heart deeply aching
Your brother, Remington Charles King

She has soft and beautiful eyes
With the power to soften stone
I would know, she charmed my heart
And gave me a smile not just to hold, but to own

But the smile I wear
Withers when compared
Never have I laid eyes on a smile so sincere and precious
It’s as if God has left an angel among us

Now not only do her lips help paint her lovely portrait,
But the sounds that echo forth, and the words they create
Mold an image that is equal to if not greater than the one my eyes are privileged to behold
And if her speech is a tsunami, then open the floodgates
I want to swim in the rivers of her laughter
I want to drown in the seas of her embrace

She is beauty incarnate
Easy to love, impossible to hate
Her face was the canvas, God must have been the artist
Because her elegance could not be birthed from a fallen world like ours