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Emily Norton Nov 2016
Pain like none other
darkness around every corner
heartache to make devils weep

I could never have imagined what I feel now
the agony of her loss is so strong
it drowns out everything else.
Hope is dead
and there is nothing to comfort me

I’ll never hear her voice
and worse

I’ll never escape the image of her laying there
surrounded by blankets
resting on a cardboard box

burning

The sound the furnace made

my sister sobbing

puking

her gray hair streak that wasn’t there when I saw her the first time

or maybe in my agony I missed it

the lack of scent

aren’t the dead supposed to smell?

her face.  not hers and hers all the same

in my mind is a building

white stone and stark in its beauty

stairs in the front leading up

a dim cool spartan room

carved from snow white rock is it granite? or marble?

in the center of the room is a dais

but before we get to that….

roses.  20,955 roses.  One for each day of her life

all of them red.  Red for passion and blood.

each bunch in a clear vase

now back to that dais….
a flat white dais raised to waist height.

on it, there she is as i last saw her.

shirt raised to cover her trach.  She’d appreciate that

hands loose

gray hair streak

and a white sheet draped from mid torso down, covering her legs.

dead….but not in my memory

Why did my mind want so badly for her to wake.

why can’t it all be not real

Why can’t I make it more than a week without a late night breakdown

Why can’t I make it more than a few hours without visiting that room

How do  I move on from an unspeakable loss

How do I continue?

worse is the realization that all humans die

and my daughter will one day hurt

as does my mother’s daughter now.
my mother passed recently.  I need to write...and yet all I can get out is babble.
Shannon McGovern Jan 2013
There are days I wish I could remember
what is was I said in a state of stupor
and haze. The times I tipped bottles
back and poured them into my soul
releasing demons and their lovers
into the air around me like smoke
rising. Stumbling in and out of sentences,
incoherant thoughts, and blurry vision.

There are nights I wish I could recall
what you felt like,  a bare treed forest,
wet with morning dew, and the sound
of echoing geese. We awoke
to the distant whines of lonely dogs,
and the knowledge that it would be hours
before we could meld into each other again.

The memories I have, a muffled question
to dance, an honest eyed I Love You marked
by bloodied hands, chewed puzzle pieces,
and freezing to death watching men chase
pig skin down damp turf. I lift my hands
and chase them like fireflies in the dark.
Hoping to catch them and keep them
in tiny boxes beneath my pillows.

But as butterflies do with nets, they slip
slowly through aching fingers,
like the waves tease the beach, washing
against it and then disappearing again
into murky depths. I would have let you
band me, keep me wrapped up in your
tattoos and scars. I would have fed
hungry mouthes and slipped into
secret moments stolen between sheets.

There are days I wish I could remember
what it was I said. And there are nights
I wish I could forget, what it was you told me.
Objectual attachments to material things
cars and gold and shiney rings
The less you have, the more its apparent
that these possesions leave you incoherant
Unresponsive to change
comfy in ignorance
humans are quite strange
Externally subtracted
its a fatal attraction
Internally is where we thive
looking through the minds eye
Over and through
Im done with the lies
pluralized and despised
making money that makes you cry
When you dont have enough to get by
it can be really tough
trying to eat like a heath food nut
Real soul food is love and trust
and the persuit of Happyness
from a life lived with less.
Molly E  Dec 2013
Untitled
Molly E Dec 2013
I really dont know what to say
Whatever, i never do.
But you, know, its kind of funny how
I always muddle through.
I really can't express myself
It would never rhyme.
But, you know, its kind of funny how
i usually do fine.
I have this love relationship,
with everyone,
with life.
I have this hate relationship,
it always pays a price.
You know, humans are weird
we take pride in being smart.
But really how smart are we?
We can never do our part.
We can never shut our mouths,
we make people cry,
we make life miserable,
we can't even guide the blind.
You know, people are crazy,
I'm not sure i like them.
You know, what if we were extinct?
What if you and your most loved were left?
Not your family, but the opposite ***
maybe even your best friend, its up to you.
Wouldnt it be so great?
I would raid all the stores,
I would go to Africa,
see in the bad the glore.
Everything depends on money,
im sorry if you dont have it
i really truely am,
because that is definitly tradject.
I'm sorry this poem is terrible,
it doesnt really rhyme
i want to get some thoughts down,
if its incoherant, fine.
It's funny how we love,
because they never love us back
its funny how we trust
then realize theyre bad.
If you understand this,
if you even read this far,
like if you agree-
but you probably wont.
Because thats just how life works,
but ill stick my ******* up
***** everyone
im fine.
Ill revise it one day, but today isnt the day. Just wait, itll be good
tom krutilla Oct 2014
and so the rains have come again dripping from the leaves
in rythms of incoherant sync, listen closely, the voice
soft, yet rambling, as if to call the gulls to the sea
find me another, bring back whole this time
restless hearts sleep in the day, the night is full of prey
in the shadows, full of grace, glowing eyes, lead astray
watching with intent, never a murmer, wasting time
the voice now useless, slumber back to were you came
perhaps the gulls will find you another

— The End —