As I sit here in this place,
I can't help to notice the smile on your face...

It was only last year that you stole my heart,
At that very moment my life made a start...

You are my blessing, my Angel from above,
I sit and wonder how I was blessed with so much love...

You have my heart in your tiny little hands,
And my undivided attention at almost all of your demands...

I not only have you to share my life with, but two others as well,
I pray I see you all grow old, but only time will tell...

If I had to write you something,
Knowing tommorow you will die,
Id write a life-long essay,
Just to ensure that you survive.

Or I'd put three simple words,
Right in the center of the page,
Because "I love you" can save a life,
Might cool down all your rage.

I'd scribble meaningless pictures,
Plead with you to stay,
Tell you it gets better,
But it never goes away.

And inside I might be angry,
Scream for you to "stick it out...."
Tell you to live with it,
Cuz thats what life's about.

I'd be crying cause I miss you,
I might die a little too,
But I'd be careful not to tell you,
Anything that isn't true.

I know the way you held the tears in,
How they swam like an ocean in your eyes,
But still you would not let them fall,
Didn't want anyone to see you cry.

And I know now why you kept such a straight face,
You told me one night when we were drunk.
You said that people look ugly when they cry,
And that you didn't want to ruin your make-up.

But your face wasn't all that crumpled on that cold December night,
No, you went flying through the wind shield,
there was no beauty, no dignity in that lost fight,
On the night that you were killed.


And I wish I could say that they miss you now,
But truth is you're just another pretty face,
Forgotten almost as soon as you hit the ground,
Almost a week from that cold December day.

So I'll write another poem about your vanity,
The price you paid to keep your pain in,
But I cannot write about beauty you see,
Because the line between beauty and tragedy,
Is only paper thin...

I miss the warm whisper
Of your breath on my cheek.
It was the vaporized reassurance
Through which, I could do all things.

Lady Gaga's in my heart;
Bruce Willis in my soul.
Easter Bunny, where to start?
Santa bring me coal!

dont hate me when i'm gone
when this body has returned
to being radicals and molecules with a life their own.
when it no longer breathes,
the hairy chest heaving no more
from sighs born of sorrow and longing.
when all life has ebbed away,
when all that remains of me are memories--
mundane and poignant...

dont hold on to me
hoping for a resurrection
for i'd truly be gone
and along with me, almost all that
identified me as me...
my smile,my countenance,my words,my voice
even my warmth,my breath,my complexion,my odour.


for me, you could pen an epitaph most prosaic;
"here lies a man who was born, lived and died"
nothing more,nothing less.
yet, if you searched long enough
it is just possible that
you would find something to add--
a little pointless anecdote
or an insignificant memory
that punctuated life...

i did sin, like every man before me
and laugh like most of them
and despair and scorn and spurn
even cheat and despise and lie
but to my credit should it be said
that i did love...

but now, all of that seem pointless
for it's not merely my body that
you now consign to the holy fire.
isnt it with great relish
that these hot tongues slurp up
all of my hopes, my anguishes
and my  most secret desires?

dont, please dont hate me when i'm gone.