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everythreemonths

Poems

milkweedangel  Jan 2018
One Month
milkweedangel Jan 2018
One month and you’re still gone
One month and you’re not here
One month and I still miss you
One month and I’m still grieving
One month and God knows how many tears
But it’s one month still the same

Some days I wondered how I’d keep going
Sometimes I could barely hold myself together
Somedays I thought maybe I was healing
Sometimes I thought maybe I wasn’t
One month and God knows how much pain
But it’s one month still the same

I still don’t sleep well and I’m still afraid of dreams
I still can’t listen to your music for fear of breaking down
I still see that everyone misses you
I still cry and grieve and wish it wasn’t true
One month and God knows how it hurts
But it’s one month still the same

It’s one month and you’re still gone
It’s one month and you’re still an angel
It’s one month and you’re still missed so much
It’s one month and it hasn’t really mended
One month and God knows how you’re doing
But it’s one month still the same

We miss you, one month, two and thirty
We miss you, cause you’re way up there
We love you, though it hurts like hell
We love you, one year, two and thirty
One month and God knows that we’re healing
But it’s one month still the same

It’s one month, and I know we’re hurting
It’s one month, but time still heals
It’s one month, and I’m still crying but
It’s one month, and we’ll keep going
One month and God knows all that happened
But it’s one month still the same

We miss you
1/18/18

I wanted to buy you a rose but no one was selling. I’m not sure what I would have done with it anyway, but...I thought of you a lot today.
Kaylee D Mackey Dec 2010
Favourite nerve-wracking days
meet carefully sweet irony

Journeying continues,
insinuating ignored answers

Porcelain begs,
hoping painful exists

Difficult burning overcame
caring tender memories

Doctor specifically outlines:
indefinite,
obscure,
bland reality
Endlessly changing predictions
force desperate safe haven
nothing helps

Miss doll lovely,
perfect,
shaken,
abandoned,
sick,
dead

Wishing stops,
scarring trust,
tearing irrelevant curiosity,
keeping nightmares closer
Month,
month,
month,
month
Repetitively
wrecked voice
struggling situations

Oh,
Miss doll lovely,
secure,
particular,
neutral,
enveloped,
unglued

Spontane­ity analyzes fortifications
forcing unprotected souls
overtaken faces
wearing hurtful aspect
Month,
month,
month,
month

Intravenous consequences
silver surgeon
irrelevant grace upon
her heavy neckline
medicated extremities

Oh,
Miss doll lovely,
designed unconscious,
forced,
weary,
sober,
sedated

Friends opinions
especial curiosity
suppressed predictions believed
feet solely on Reason Street
accompanied by Pushing Negativity
nothing’s changing
Second,
Minute,
Day,
Week,
Month,
month,
month,
month

O­h,
Miss doll lovely,
evident,
profound,
bare,
suffering,
dying

Loneliness laughs
limits reached
heartbreaks stated
emotional crashing
déjà vu stays,
a wishful memory
deceit captivates each:
Second,
Minute,
Hour,
Day,
Week,
Month,
month,
month,
month­

A curve catatonic
victim tattered at gates of steel
guarded
grasping winter
greatest attempts trying to understand

Nurse,
feet, ankles, organized steps
communications
understandings
Fractured faces cry
broken tears
honest weak calling
home hurts
useless moonlight lips
Month,
month,
month,
month,
Year,
year,
year,
year

Oh,
Miss doll lovely,
not waking,
haunting,
insane,
blackened,
cold
12.01.2010
Izzy Jul 2017
First Minutes
The discovery sinks in as we spring into action
Adrenaline kicks in, heart pounding, blood rushing.
My mind confusedly putting pieces together.
First Few Hours
Calls are made to paramedics and cops and investigators swarm our house.
Our car goes faster than what is safe as we follow the ambulance as it carried what we would later learn was only her body and a few dedicated paramedics.
A time of death is announced and more tearful calls are made, this time to family and later to friends.
We leave hours later surrounded by a mournful silence.
First Day
We sat on the on the couch in a shocked silence, which was only broken by my calls to her friends, the ringing of the house phone and doorbell.
First Week
The silence was deafening and I had to escape.
So I returned to school after making arrangements with my family for the cremation and shedding my own tears for the first time. I caught the last two classes of the day and began burying myself in my classwork after telling those who needed to know.
First Month
Our own questions were behind every turn as we handled finances, possessions, settling things and celebrating her short life.  
I began to tell more and more of my friends.
Second Month
The pain was still fresh and stinging,
My mother returned to work for the first time.
Third Month
I held back my tears in English.
The play we read reminding me of her and running lines with her the previous year.
Fourth Month
I let it get to me while locked in my room, wishing it was my boyfriend's arms around me instead of my paint-stained jacket as I painted the canvas as black as I was feeling.
Recording my tears for him and watching how he hid his own watery eyes the next day in class as I honored our promise.
Her birthday passed and my mother planted flowers.
Fifth Month
After an uneventful spring break, my dad began staying home from work, unable to handle the weight of his thoughts.
Sixth Month
School ended and summer began and for the first time in what was now fourteen years, I didn't have a sister. I was alone.
Seventh Month
Slowly but surely the pain faded, with the help of scattered therapists, counselors, and mountains of support from family and friends. Summer traditions continued but were never the same.
Eighth Month
The weight of her absence doesn’t rest on my shoulders as heavy anymore.
Ink stains me with her memory. The pain I felt, saw and personified over many pages as we still face it.
My father has returned to work as we each learn to deal with the missing piece of our family in our own ways.
Ninth Month
School begins.
It's my junior year and school is starting for the first time since 3rd grade without my sister. My mother would always take a "first-day" picture, the tradition faded when we attended different schools. Maybe it wasn't so annoying after all.
Tenth Month
It's October, my, our, favorite month. Lost memories run through my head along with missed opportunities. Did we even carve pumpkins last year? Last year we argued about passing out candy but both ended up falling asleep. When was the last time we went to the County Fair? The Mullet Festival? Missed opportunities for silly reasons.
Eleventh Month
The Holiday season is kicking off. Soon it will be Thanksgiving. Her absence is noticeable as I stand amongst my family and celebrate. The only ones who don't ignore it are the little ones, repeatedly asking where she is as the grownups look uncomfortable. I don't know what to tell them.
Twelveth Month
The Holidays are in full swing and I can't help but think of the last one we all spent together. She passed before Christmas. They aren't the same anymore.

One Year
Its hard to believe that a year has passed without her. Her room is the same as if shes just at school. We spent the anniversary doing things she enjoyed, like taking the family dog to the beach and sharing cotton candy.
We haven't moved on, not in the slightest. My mother still cries, I don't think she'll ever stop. But as the days pass I can see how it gets easier and easier for my family to be happy again.