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Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.
For Ty & Des ❤️
 Aug 2014 Sheila J Sadr
allison
We were a little too formal
as I gave you the usual tour of the house
that my mother would not approve of
and we were a little awkward
as I laid down next to you because
I was ready to jump into whatever this was
but at the same time it made me hesitate
because this was the first time.

The first time:
we’d ever gotten this close
and
I’d gotten to really feel
the way your muscled arms clenched
a little when you put your arm around me
and
I looked into your eyes
and you were looking straight back at me
without telling a joke or jabbing my sides
and you were serious
and I was nervous
but I kissed you anyway.

We were still slightly sweat-glistened
from mopping the dingy
and eternally sticky floors at work
but I liked the way
that I breathed you in
and it was a mix
between your quick spritz of cologne
when you thought I wasn’t looking
and your natural musky scent
that was exactly how I imagined you would smell
when I sat just far enough away
in the passenger seat.

We were a little too eager
and
your hands were a little too fast
to throw my tank top to the floor
and unhook my favorite bra
and
you were a little too fast
to get me exposed
despite our hesitations initially
but
I was a little too fast
to kiss you harder
to let you know that
I didn’t give a ****
about the lipstick that lingered
on your slightly swollen lips
and I wanted more
than just to rub my clothed body
against yours.


*August 5, 2014
11:55:19 PM
 Jul 2014 Sheila J Sadr
SG Holter
For Tina.

I feel it now.
It started as a recognition
Deep in the gut;  

A conquistador caught and
Sacrificed by liquid gold -greed-
Poured into ungagged mouth.

Scolding Hell's Pain *forced
inside,
To guild everything unguildable until all
That was left was water and gold.

Improvement, for short.
I try to stretch my arms across the
Bed, from my side to what is

Undeniably still yours.
It is too wide a sky. Too wide to cross,
By foot and healing heart.
Yes, Cowgirl. Still hurts, but less and less frequently.
Hope it's even less for you. Be safe. X
 Jul 2014 Sheila J Sadr
r
My fingers trace
your contours
in my thoughts.
The highs and lows,
your inclines
rise and fall.
Spaces in between
grow distant
from ridge and valley
to coastal plain.

Through uncharted territory
I follow the beaten path
till trail turns to sand
and desert meets ocean.

Contours fade
and wash away.
You slide into
the deep blue
and cross the border.

r ~ 7/5/14
\¥/\
  |      Lost
/ \
 Jul 2014 Sheila J Sadr
r
Dandelions stand tall
   above the grass.
Inviting, daring. Brave.
    I have the energy
but not the heart
    to mow them down.
The grass rejoices.
   My conscience frowns.
My dog sleeps on.

r ~ 7/6/14
\¥/\
  |    
/ \
 Jul 2014 Sheila J Sadr
SG Holter
If I had everything I wanted,
I'd be rich.
If I had everything I needed,
I'd be free.
 Jul 2014 Sheila J Sadr
SG Holter
Were we ever kind men?
If so, we've evolved into
Naugty boys; both hands wedged
Into cookie jars, swearing
Through crumbs that it
*Wasn't us.
 Jun 2014 Sheila J Sadr
lazarus
it has been one year, eleven months, and four days since i last saw your face
since i watched your hand raise to your lips like a nun in silent prayer in a farewell
just for me
through the ***** window
as i held the folded up note in my hand like my heart that was drawn with the words i needed to explain to you that I was scared I would forget how to breathe with you gone
that i still needed you
and then you were gone, your body disappeared out sight
it has been one year, eleven months, and four days since you left
and now i have something to say
i was sixteen years old, and my eyes were bright
i was sixteen and the way you dragged your fingertips across my back as you walked by like mice scurrying across the floor made me feel more than i ever thought it was possible to feel
how naive of me
i was sixteen and when your rough lips grazed my ear like an animal stalking its prey my heart exploded for every single possibility that your words held
i was sixteen and every time my father struck me i could feel it reverberating through my bones because my tender mind hadn’t caught up with my aching body yet and i knew  i knew that you were wrong
but when you stroked my hair and kissed my fingertips and your hands grasped my waist like you were holding on for dear life the only truth i could hear above the frantic beating of my heart was that you wanted me
that you validated me
you weaved your hands between my ribs and slipped your fingers around my heart and when you left YOU RIPPED OUT MY HEART AND TOOK IT WITH YOU
YOU SHATTERED EVERY WAY IN WHICH I THOUGHT I WAS WORTHWHILE

i’m not sixteen anymore
and i spent one year, eleven months, and four days trying to make the pieces of my broken self fit together in the same way that they did before your eyes become the reason that i smiled every day
i’ve spent all this time trying to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault, wasn’t my fault, wasn’t my fault WASN’T MY FAULT
I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY SAY BECAUSE YOU CAN’T TELL ME IM WISE FOR MY AGE WHEN I LET A MONSTER REDEFINE THE TRUTHS I THOUGHT I KNEW ABOUT MYSELF
it has been one year, eleven months, and four days
I want my heart back
january 2014.
Written as spoken word.
They told me I'm lucky
to be alive.
It came like a silent predator,
deadly and without warning.
Never before have I felt
my vitality leave so suddenly.

They told me I'm lucky
to be alive.
It laid dormant, waiting patiently
for many years.
Then it struck, robbing me
of a life I once knew.

They told me I'm lucky
to be alive.
I was given a new burden to bear.
My world now demanded I keep up,
or lose the fight.

To be incurable is a harrowing thought.
You never fully appreciate
human strength
until it no longer belongs to you.
Death constantly looms,
waiting for your surrender.

But I refuse to lose.
My disease does not define me,
and I know I can win the war.
They told me I'm lucky
to be alive.
Honestly, I'm just getting started.
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