You are alive.
This isn't Frankenstein where life isn't real.
You are alive. And that,
is the true gift.

You.
Are.
Alive.

With video games where you're reborn,
to movies where life continues in the afterlife,
you are constantly persuaded to believe that,
nothing ends.

Everything ends eventually,
including you.
But as for right now,

You.
Are.
Alive.

You might not fit in,
and you might not be perfect,
but you are yourself,
isn't that enough?

Isn't being alive on a planet,
where it was a miracle for life to even begin,
enough?
If it isn't,
then what is?

107,000,000,000 people have lived on this planet.
and you are one of them.
Take that and run,
or take that and stand.

Speak your mind.
Don't ignore opportunity.
Do what you desire.

Because one day,
you won't have that chance anymore.
You'll be silenced by the epidemic of the universe,
death.

I’m not supposed to be grieving
My Baby wasn’t supposed to die
How did this happen
How did I wind up counting dead roses
How did I wind up being reminded of proper funeral decorous
I can’t explain what’s going on
Something happened when that boy came along
That boy who started dating my firstborn son…
What has that boy done?

I’m not supposed to be burying my baby,
Shouldn’t be standing by a pile of dirt with no one to clutch my hand
I shouldn’t have ice in my heart over my pride and joy as I hold his jersey
How did anything ever go wrong for us
How did a present, devoted, loving mother and a smart, strong, sweet boy end up here
How could God let us find ourselves in a cemetery we have no way out of
I can’t reconcile this horrible day with real life
Something went terribly wrong
When that boy came along

I’m not supposed to be crying this hard nonstop
It was all so nice a week ago, throwing big parties
I shouldn’t be making a speech about my son in front of everyone
He supposed to be grounded for when his music rattled the room every day
But he’s not home, he’s supposed to be with me but he’s not
How did that boy who’d been so polite to me bounce into our lives and end everything good
Everything was wonderful like a Hallmark card
Until that cursed boy came to tear it apart

How? Why?
Why, why, why?

The day after your
death it snowed again. I thought it was spring.
The cosmos created crystals of water as it received you.
Welcomed as another star
to the vastness we here
on earth can not know
but with our feeble telescopes.

This day after your death
I want to protect anyone else
from leaving. I want to cling to
every thing I know. Yet my tears
are evidence of everything I do not
understand and never will. You are the mystery
now John, my brother.

My mind will not
absorb your death as readily as my heart.
My heart seems to hold and let go
because it needs to, in order to survive.
My mind wants to greet my heart
but it just keeps snowing. Dreams
of despair.

You lived your recovery
like a man none other that I have seen. Lend us your strength, courage and wisdom
while in our sorrow. Fortune allowed us to witness
all your strengths.

You shared your weaknesses
so readily. I am stronger because of you.

If you are there please comfort those who have less strength. You were a pillar for so many. We still want to lean on you.
I feel so weak now
the day after your death.

When you left, despite me knowing you'd leave, the shock was still apparent.

The bedroom light is left on.
I take melatonin to fall asleep.
My stomach is always empty despite eating.
I fixate on your last breath.
Your chest rising.
Your chest falling.
Your quiet little sigh.
Your face tensing and then relaxing.
I make a mini shrine on my dresser out of your pictures.
I call my dad and realize that's gone too.
I dream of roads I've never traveled on.
I dream of flying to Texas and leaving here forever.
I dream of escaping.
The house is empty.
No one tells you of the shock or the trauma.
You just understand, that as soon as you can comprehend it, Death is for us all--young and old, terminally ill and seemingly perfectly healthy, parent or child, high school alumni or dropout, wife or fiance, girlfriend or best friend, young and old

I keep wilting carnations in my room.
Anything with an expiration date reminds me of the loss.
I try to remember your commanding voice and your loud laughter.
I try to love.
I try to care.
I keep your pictures to remember your face before...you changed.

Now all I try to forget are the changes.
I try to forget you saying you weren't hungry.
Your food scraping off the plate into the garbage.
You saying you weren't hungry.
You sleeping in until 10am.
How you used to get up at 6am sharp every morning.
You saying you weren't hungry.
You not talking anymore.
You...emaciated and frail.
You...changing.
Your pain.
The sound of the concentrator humming.
The mechanical noises of the defibrillator and its exhausted sigh.
You saying you weren't hungry anymore.
Your last breath.
Your quiet little sigh.
Your serene smile.
Everything was so tired, grandpa.
Everything was so tired...

Dear God,

Can you hear my prayers?
I've been crying out to you for years.
The loneliness I feel is like a black hole.
I feel like I don't belong anywhere,
not even in my own body.
Do you understand my pain?
Please will you hold me tight.
Tell me everything's going to be ok.
I yearn for a father's love that is a
source of comfort not confusion.
A safe love.
Why didn't you protect me?
I know we live in a world of freewill
But how could you sit back and watch a child
get used and abused.
It doesn't make sense to me.
I have so many questions...
I'm really sad.
I feel broken.
My internal world feels branded.
People don't understand me.
I don't understand me.
I'm tired of this fog.
Please lift this veil of shame from my face.
Please do something.
Help me escape this inner hell.
I want to be free.

I'm eager,
To rip you off my chest
With all the bleeding that would come with that
While I looked at the clock,
Slowly turning until it stopped.

Until it happens,
You'll be gripping the walls of my mind with your dark fingernails