I always felt the warmth of your embrace
When I ate melting Mac and cheese.
The bright yellow cheese gleamed like your eyes
I saw your smile in smirking elbow noodles, curled upwards.
Ham and bread crumbs sprinkled the top,
Creating the perfect symphony of savory on my taste buds.
The blueberry muffins always tasted so sweet...

I miss your sweetness.

The call of your voice echoes now
As a distant shout for dinner to be served.
It’s been years since you’ve passed,
But I still hear your words call down the hall
floating over Jeopardy playing on the television.

I can’t hear your voice anymore saying you love me,
But I can always hear it haunt me when I eat Mac & Cheese.
It’s the only time I can hear voice...

I miss your voice.

The smell of Mac & Cheese makes me sick now.
Flavor doesn’t dance on my taste buds anymore.
The cheese tastes cold.
The blueberries taste bitter.
The savory ham now tastes sorrowful.
And the bread crumbs feel like sand scraping my mouth.

No one else makes it like you did,
Even if the recipe is the same.
But I still eat it.
Because I feel you with me when I do.
It’s the only time I do...

I will always miss the warmth of your melting Mac & Cheese,
And the warmth of your embrace.

you passed by the river
and the reflection was cast on
my curve of bank.
the current
lost it’s strength at the mouth
like words whispered in defeat.
were it not for my knowledge
of those who have drowned
i would be breathing the reeds and water
and beating against the overflow.
i think it’s human nature
fight for something
for the only thing we know.

To those who are gone.
We’ll carry your legacy.
To honor your life.

A breath clouds up the air
as I remember the time of the fairies
and back to when the fire of melting candles
was too bright for my fragile eyes

I always envied her eyes
I wonder if melancholy
chose me as its vessel long ago
this frail body has been hollowing itself out for years,
as the ultimate dwelling to rot in,

the chaos is comforting,
all silence stands for is
my complete obliteration
and the endless illusion
of what we once were.

Life after?
At the end of the line there’s peace
A small fragment in the unknown
to venture it is to walk a line
Telephone wires crosses
Small synopsis of chemistry
bodies we are
Bodies we will be
A short story of mine
One of fleeting time
Strung out on God’s
We are left to feel the mean time
Cruel it may seem
To those lived, now a dream