(regarding the death of my son)

I fear very little
but the one thing I DO fear
is forgetting the sound of his voice.  

It was 70 year-old husky
by the age of 14.
The manifestation was a quartet bass
tucked neatly in the body
of a fray-headed sparrow.
If you closed your eyes
the lumberjack you imagined
would be tickled to see
the tiny powder keg
that actually stood before you.
Inside the resonance was a warm huckster laugh,
half good ole boy,
half saint,
half comforter.
He was fifty percent more real
than anyone I knew.
On the good days his chuckling possessed him
to the point of breathlessness.
His joy-tears are the Rembrandts of our memories
never to be tarnished by any pity demons.
But on the bad days his laughter trailed away
into a pugilistic cough.
It's the one thing I fear I will always remember.
Yet when he spoke the sincerity was so ominous
that any inaccuracies seemed irrelevant.
Love was the spine of his vocabulary.
There were no meaningless words.
Regardless of the lettering
they all had the root meaning
of clemency.
He spouted new beginnings
and hope
regardless of past mistakes of failures.  

I fear very little
but I fear I will forget the sound of his voice
for I fear that I have already forgotten my own.  

Today it speaks only of him being gone.
Reliquishing are the days
that were full of him.  
I submit to songs that were his
and find myself tethered to unmerited heaviness.
No matter how loud I scream
the present rains on me
and my voice is lost
in the sickness of the storm.
I cannot turn it off.
I press my radio presets
to chase away the Rascal Flatt residue in my head
and land on a Christian station.
**** it.
The only thing he loved more than Rascal Flatts
was Jesus.
Me too. But not today.
I just want to stop crying.  

It's the magician's multi-colored scarves
tied corner to corner
in a endless tug of futility and frustration.
The more I want the prank to stop
the more irritating the infinite parade of colors becomes.
I pull again and again hoping the next scarf,
the next involuntary sorrow,
will be the last one.
I open my mouth in concious agenda
to change directions
and speak of the blessings I have
in my other children
only to find his name tied to the last name
which was his as well
just in another color.
I cannot stop speaking of him
no matter how hard I try.
And I wonder if my kids know
that I know
they're suffering in his shadow
and I can't fix it.  

I fear very little
but I fear I will forget the sound of his voice
as I am forgetting mine
and terrified that I may be muting theirs as well.

Have you ever shared the darkest secrets of your soul
And the person you told just shied away?  
Did you assume it would happen
Because those secrets you felt you should not say?

You go out on a limb and hope they'll accept who you are
Inside you knew it was hopeless
But you still had faith in that wishing star
  
You sit and wait for their response but the silence is icy cold
You wish you could take it back
But your soul you've already sold

Your heart sinks and your eyes grow heavy, but you refuse to cry
Because in your mind your pointlessly waiting
For their compassionate reply  

The hurt and pain is unforgiving and you've lost all aspiration
Your head is hollow and your heart is numb
They trampled all inspiration

How can you love yourself if no one has ever dared?
You just want to be yourself, to share yourself with someone
But you learn they've never truly cared

You know you'll be rejected, because you've rejected yourself many times
So you try to vent your pain  
By converting it into rhymes

But inside your soul is lonely, and in a dim corner it weeps
Within the demons are prying
and no one ever sleeps

A coke addict came to his friend who was a crying drunk.
Both had hit rock bottom, it was the lowest that they've sunk.

The drunk man said "****, my friend, you must be feeling pretty ill."

The coke head laughed and asked him "What's it feel like to feel?"

little girl, little girl, why do you cry?
you're only three; it shouldn't be hard
mommy & daddy just need a break
don't worry, everything will be fine
in time

little girl, little girl, where's your smile?
you're nine years old; you should be
happy & enjoying childhood
mommy & new daddy are just having another disagreement
don't worry, everything will be fine
in time

little girl, little girl, why do you hide?
you're ten years old; you shouldn't be afraid of him
new daddy is just grabbing a drink
he wont hurt you when he's sober
don't worry, everything will be fine
in time

little girl, little girl, why do you run?
you're eleven, you should stand up for yourself
new daddy didn't mean to hit you or your mom, it was just an accident
& daddy didn't mean to ruin your life
it just seemed to happen after
he took you away forever
don't worry, everything will be fine
in time

little girl, little girl, why don't you speak?
you're twelve years old; you should have a say about who you are
daddy & new mommy are just
"disciplining you", don't take the insults personal, darling
don't worry, everything will be fine
in time

little girl, little girl, why don't you understand?
you're thirteen; you should be a big girl now
big brother is only doing what's best
for him & mom
you'll be okay on your own
don't worry, everything will be fine
in time

little girl, little girl, why do you harm?
you're fourteen; you should be strong
daddy & new mommy are just angry
& having a bad day today
they didn't mean it when they called
you worthless, did they?
don't be mad at mommy for what happened when she was with
new daddy
if she didn't abort the baby
you & her wouldn't be here right now
your little brother or sister
wasn't allowed to grow
but maybe she did what was right
don't worry, everything will be fine
in time

little girl, little girl, where did you go?        
you're fifteen; stop being so pitiful
words don't hurt, right?
that's what everyone said, right?
how new are your scars, darling?
you must feel terrible
now that your parents know
you're good at hiding the pain
almost too good
thoughts of suicide & scars of
self-harm; you're one of a kind
why did you try to leave?
why are so you depressed?
why are you always asleep?
little girl, are you even listening?
don't worry, the worst has passed

you're already lost.
a.c.