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Memphis Ghosts Apr 2020
Monday April 23, 2018

Today, God has taken someone very dear to me. He has made my father one of his many angels.

I never thought you would have gone this soon. It was weird..I was in class...didn't even know that you had already passed and yet, while people were giving their presentations, all i could think about was you. I started to write a letter to God. All I could write about was, why you. Why such a wonderful man? Why my rock, my foundation, the glue to our family? Why God had to take you? I knew you were suffering, I knew you had a hard life. But I also knew, you put us first. You cared for us until you couldn't any longer. You loved us, no matter our doings. I lost Nanna, your mother, three years ago. The docotrs gave you a year last January, but I didn't take it literal. I couldn't see you dying. I couldn't see the day that I wouldn't hear your laugh anymore, that I wouldn't feel your bear hug or hear your voice anymore. That I wouldn't hear the countless jokes and stories that you told over and over because you couldn't remember that you've already told them. I never thought that would come a day so soon. I never thought that that day would be today. I talked to you on the phone, asked you how you were, told you I loved you. I didn't think that that would be the last time that I would talk to you. That I would say those words to you. But alas, God had other plans for you. I know you aren't suffering anymore. I know you are happy and that you are with your mom, dad, grandma and grandpa. I just wish I could have been there to hug you one last time. To hear your laugh one last time. I love you and I'm going to miss the hell out of you. I still can't believe that your gone.

I wish I could have heard you say that you were proud of me one last time. But I know that you are. I'm not sure how to process this. It's going to be hard. But I'll be okay. Because I have you and everyone else guiding me.

I love you daddy. And I'm not sure what I will do without you. But I know that I will continue to make you proud.
Something I wrote the day my dad died
Memphis Ghosts Apr 2020
Written: April 23, 2019

No one can prepare you for death, no matter whom it is. But most importantly, no one can prepare you for losing a parent, a father. No one prepares you when you feel the need to take on the role as the strong one and care for everyone else. No one prepares you for the moments when you have to comfort your niece or mother because she lost someone dear to her too. No one prepares you for the grief that you will run away from but it'll eventually hit you like a ton of bricks. No one prepares you for that depression, anxiety, anger, resentment, guilt, wishes, and pain. No one prepares you for that feeling of losing the only man that truly ever loved you since they day you were born. You don't have that chance to prepare. You don't have that chance to heal in advanced.

Because you never know when it truly hits. You never know when it's going to happen, how its going to happen, where, and why. I faced days, wondering when I was going to feel my grief. Would it be during the service? Would it be during the burial? Would it be a week later? A month? A year? You're never prepared to have that heart wrenching hole inside your chest, missing the man you used to look up to. The man you wanted to be at one point.

It's been a year, today, and some days it still doesn't feel real. It still doesn't feel like a reality. It feels like I could just go home and see him. Like he will walk in that door and give me one of his hugs that I so desperately want and need. I struggled. I still struggle with this. I thought I could work through this on my own. I thought I was strong enough to get through college with a breeze, help others, and THEN worry about my problems. But I've learned all too quickly that that isn't the case. That that could never be the case. I needed help and I got it. I reached out among family, friends, professors, counselors, and God, seeking help. And through them, I am building my strength. Because strength isn't something you can obtain alone. It's best in numbers, it's best with support from those around you whom love you and care for you and your well being. I can't say that this grief process is getting any easier, but it's not getting harder. And I feel like I'm set to be on the right path. The path that will help me succeed and make my dad proud. Everyday is a struggle, slowly but surely, it'll turn into a smoother passage. I may be sharing this on deaf ears (or in this case blind eyes bc social media) but let this be and insight. Don't go through whatever you are going through, alone. Reach out. You're not alone in this and you never will be.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
It's been one year without you, today, Daddy. A year that has felt like an eternity and a day, all in one. It's funny how time works like that, huh. I love you and I hope I'm doing what I can to make you proud. I miss you.
Something I wrote on my dads death-iversary
Memphis Ghosts Apr 2020
When you lose someone to death, they never tell you how hard or how easy the grief process can be.

They never tell you about that heartache that you feel inside your chest every time you think of the person you lost. That constant hole inside your chest and how, no matter how much you try to fill it with other things, it never goes away. They don’t inform you that certain songs, movies, or shows can trigger emotions deep inside of you and make you lose your **** sometimes. You’re never told about the constant days and nights, sobbing, unable to move as you just lay there and wish you were dead. Not because you wanted your life to end, but because you wish you were with that person again. They don’t tell you about your subconscious and how it’ll try to find every little thing that can relate to that person, just to try and get a grasp of hope that they might still be on earth, that they might still be alive.

No one tells you about the guilt you feel, for every negative impact you had with that person while you were alive. Let alone the guilt you face when you are supposed to do them proud and you feel as though you are failing them. They never tell you that that person might have taught you a lot of things in life, but they never taught you how to live your life without them, how to go on without them, how to move on from them. They never tell you about the constant stomach ache, the terrifying and rippling anxiety that you get every time someone mentions their name. You’re not told about the sting in your eyes or the pain of the lump in your throat as you try your best to prove to everyone that you are okay, when in fact, you are far from okay. The jaw clenching, the anger, the countless holes in the wall or dents in the ground that perfectly show an imprint of your knuckles, because you can’t seem to swallow your emotions anymore. They never tell you about the screaming, the anger towards the person that passed or really anyone and everyone for that matter.

They never talk about how antidepressants don’t work anymore or counseling just doesn’t seem like enough. You’re not told about the amount of times that you’ll space out during the day; whether you’re in class, at the marker, or in the shower. They don’t tell you about the shaking of every limb on your body because you ache to be able to reach for that person again, the shaking of your insides because you try to hold in or emotions. They let you know that the first year could be the hardest, or that you could be numb and the second year hits harder. About the countless holiday’s, birthdays, and anniversaries that you will miss and how it just becomes all the more painful each reminder. They don’t tell you about the nightmares. How you’ll relive every moment all over again and once you wake up, you’re forced to face the reality that it’s not true.

Throughout losing someone, you’re not told a lot of things. But most importantly, you’re not told about the fleeting moments you get for a split blissful second you have this butterfly feeling where everything is fine, that person didn’t pass, and you think they will call, you’ll call them, or they’ll walk right through that door soon. As if you hadn’t gone through all that pain and as if you hadn’t watched their soulless body be buried underground. And for that very very brief second, you feel normal and free. But as soon as it comes, it goes away just as fast and you’re faced with the brutal reality that that feeling was just an anomaly, a fluke, maybe even a daydream. Then you’re left to think about it for weeks on end, wondering why you felt that way in the first place when you /know/ they are gone.

Least to say….people don’t speak up. They don’t tell you a lot about grieving and how alone it can feel not knowing. But I just told you a small fraction of my side and believe me when I tell you, /you’re not alone/. /And you will never be alone/.
This isn't really a poem I guess? But more so just a ramble about grief and the death of my father and my feelings towards it all.
Blessing Thabane Apr 2020
Dad
24-72: Your internal organs decomposed
3-5: your very body started to bloat and blood containing foam leaked from your mouth and nose
8-10: you turned into your least favourite colour-red.

See, I'm trynna understand how I feel about you
I've learnt to love you the same way I've learnt to embrace my dark days.
It's fine until someone asks, 'Where is your dad?'
I smile and tell them you're late
You should see how their eyes lit up when I tell them,' it's fine, that it's okay'
They look dissatisfied
Like I'm supposed to cry talking about you
Like the loneliness In me should scream for comfort
Like the pride in me should shrink into nothingness
Like this heart should only beat for you
Like these hands should remind me that you once lived- existed, laughed and loved
Like I'm not complete without you
Like I cannot be the spitting image of you without trying to manifest my individuality
Like I'm supposed to shiver to the very thought of our memories.
Am I supposed to feel something?
Ain't I complete?
Ain't I a heroine?
Tell them
Didn't I carry my cross? Took all stones thrown at me and never asked for help?
Didn't I blossom into spring after you withered like leaves into autumn?
Didn't I carry my head up- shining into sunset?
You tell them!
Tell them not to feel sorry for me!
See, this life is crazy, love is fragile and good days don't last. So, it's okay...
It's more soothing knowing you're up there than down here...
So I figure, if my mother, the love of your life survived your fall, then maybe I, will survive the presence of your absence
I figure, loving you will not heal me but it will hold my heart the day I find the courage to heal myself
They say they're sorry for my loss
Loss?
No
I never lost you, you're not dead to me,
All we ever needed was time
That's all we lost...
So,Rest in me
This is a poem about my late Dad.
P.S I still love you
Dvali Taytem Apr 2020
I do not know how many years I was terrified of the Titan
It spit in my face the stink of ancient beer
Clogged my nostrils with smoke and massive fingers
As if to rip off my nose
As if to crush my bendy bones in its fists
All the while hollering
For more
And less
And itself

I only know that now
I have seen other
Things
Than it
Things with far more power than it
Things that howl louder than
The Titan
I have risen to meet them
I have looked in their eyes
As I brought
     them
To kneel before
     me
Have brought them
To know fear

Soon I shall make battle again
With the great beast from some hell of its own
It does not yet know
To be afraid
Written around 7:00 AM, 4/19/20.
Edits around 10:00 AM.
Ayodeji Oje Apr 2020
Hot sour liquids
Roll from my eyes
Taking turns
As they roll
On my flooded cheek
Matthew,
Your dark and shine boy
Will not see you again
As you ply the world beyond
I miss the dove in you
To my Dad who departed this world in 2016.
Hannah Apr 2020
When I was a little girl I was told this world was filled with so much love. That with every scrape and every bruise their was a bandaid and a kiss to make it feel better.

When I was 10 years old I learned that you were sick. While it was a sickness in your body the doctors were able to treat it. From then on I learned that everything happens for a reason and that reason is to make us stronger. And everything that happens has a cure.

When I was 13 I realized that sickness was so much more. I never realized that sickness could've taken over your mind. It still doesnt seem real how at one moment a person you know so well can become an absolute stranger. You made me feel as if I was so useless. But I still stayed around. I tried everything

When I was 14 I realized that you weren't getting better. I thought there was a cure. I thought I could be the cure. Like the kiss to a scrape. All you needed was love. But I realized you didn't want my love. You were looking for something else. With your manipulative words you broke every single part of me. It's funny how kisses can only fix the outside damages but what can fix the damage on the inside? Words seem to only hurt more. You come to realize every good thing someone says to you is a complete lie. I didnt need a guy to break my heart when my own father did. The only love I ever needed from a man was from my father. It was at that moment I realized I was not lovable. If not even my caregiver for so long could love me than who possibly could?

When I was 15 I decided enough was enough. I somehow got the courage to finally cut off all ties with you. While this made me a better person I never got a closure. They say time heals all wounds which in some ways it does. I think rather in time you forget about things and push all the hurt down. Which can be a deadly game. I learned to bury my emotions for so long that I don't know what to do with them.

When I was 16 I realize that as that door is shut there is still so much hurt. Although I dont have to deal with your ******* and how worthless you made me feel I still deal with myself. The thing with mental and emotional abuse is even though the abuser may be gone... those thoughts are still always there. I still feel worthless and I dont feel as if anyone could ever love me. Some days are better than others. I believe every "I love you" means a I feel bad for you. And whenever everyone promises to always be there for me it's just a way to try and get me to trust them. What I've learned from you is every person who comes into my life I never think "I wonder IF theyll leave me" it's always "I wonder WHEN theyll leave me." I can never see myself as this great person who can accomplish anything. Even writing this poem I can only criticize it. Although this storm had passed.. the damage always remains.

When I look back on life I see how far I've come. I dont want to view myself as a broken person and I dont want anyone else to view me as a broken person either. I'm not "strong" I've just had to deal with a lot of *******. Everyone has their own problems and demons. That's just life. It's not fair, and it's not always beautiful.
Skyler Reece Apr 2020
I know you probably can't hear this
But I'll say it anyway,
I miss you.
I’ve always missed you.
And I’m sorry all my poems
Are about what you did,
And not who you are --
Who you were.

I remember melting into your hugs--
Never wanting to let go.  
Remember your smell
(Cigarettes and old spice.)
The way your face lit up when you saw us,
The way you lit the room up with you--
Always smiling your goofy smile.
always putting others before yourself,
Which is why it's hard you left.
So hard to know how you really felt--
So lonely, so lost, so empty.
I wish I could’ve helped you.
But I still remember you --

6 years, and I still remember
Everything I have because of you.
Your altruism became mine--
You always encouraged us to help others
You always made everyone smile
You gave me
A never ending fountain of puns and ******* remarks
You sparked my interest in art, and in poetry
I’m always told I’m just like you
I take great pride in that
You were always my role model
And I will always love you--
Always miss you
My father was my role model during my childhood, and I missed him most of the time. he wasn't around very often, first because of the Iraq war and then because my mother had divorced him, so the few moments I had with him I cherished. I lost him for good when he committed suicide, and for a long time I was always stuck on his death, so I wrote this as a reminder to me and now all of you to look at his life.
Poetic T Apr 2020
Love is a smile that never fades,
        but is glanced upon

every morning,.

For we are two parts making more
            than a whole..

For one + one isn't two

its a family of more parts than just
                               us both.

Mum he's teasing me,

                             Dad she stole my deodorant...


Were more than when we started..
    for one and more is never the amount

we expect.

As a family is never what you expect it to add up too..
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