I wrote this with a pen,
In my notebook,
At least a million times.

At first,
It was simple & clean
Like the Utada Hikaru song we kept listening to,
Underneath a cloud full of spliff smoke.
But then it turned complex & morally contaminated.
Like the time you sat in my desk chair
And released your stomach acid onto my floor.

It reeked of alcohol
And so does my breath at this current moment.

It's hard for me to express my pain
Without feeling the presence of the nimbus clouds in my mind
Come closer to making my face burst into tears.
But I'm going to try.

Hearing the news that you died,
Plagued my ears and spider-cracked my soul.
I'm never going to be the same knowing that
Your physical existence will not be roaming around this earth.

The huge disk of memories we created are on vinyl
Constantly replaying in my head
But scratching after May 13th.
That was the last time I saw your infectious smile
And felt your tight bear hug that provided me with warmth.

After our palms clapped
And fingers interlocked,
I felt your heartbeat with my knuckle.
We were more than friends.
We were brothers.
We were humans that had souls that understood each other.

I'm not going to lie,
I am still damaged and feel out of place in this world.
Where do I go from here?
How do I feel better?

I think about you every night,
With my tear filled eyes soaking the lifelines of my palms.
I keep the thoughts of you replaying in my head,
Knowing that your spirit has touched the souls of many,
I can't help but feel this sad.
But I know that one day I will
Feel better.

I tried to find the answers at night,
Underneath the night sky
Where the stars shined bright,
And the moon provided solace.

I confessed my pain to the moon every night,
It illuminated my soul
And gave me a shoulder to cry on.

Dear celestial object,
Allow my wanderlust soul to rise to the stars
With hopes of finding comfort at night
Because I haven't been the same since finding out about the death of my best friend.

May you live on forever Fuquan Ford.

We are nothing but
A passing thought in the mind
of the universe
like a child’s dream at night
that comes only to die at dawn

Inches away from you
        Never there but ever present
        As your breath is lifted up unto the heavens

Elevated is the air upon your words
        Escalated, the anticipation of your voice
        Among the noise

Where the only scene to see is peace
        Held quietly in reverie
        And respect for your mere presence

Find with ease
        The smile of the self-reveals
        A quietness of hearts appeal

Not to be seen
        But to seek the conversation speak
        And to peak the words of interesting

Mere inches now away from me
        With no voice let to find the time
        Or threnodic melody

Don’t let me down
        My inward voice
        Speak

What if the town of Mayberry wasn’t
Exactly “white”?
Some of it would be of course
But what if most was “not quite?”
And whom?
They all look the same.
The same arms.
The same hands.
Creamy, milky blanched and not exactly pink even in soapy dishwater.

It does explain why there aren’t really any children.
That would give one away
That tawny skin
That curious hair and inky eyes

Aunt Bea, her nose is a little wide perhaps and yet...
Well Sheriff Andy sure can sing and his hair has just the slightest suggestion of a wave.
Otis’s lips are full and plump.
His face is round not square.
He is the most unassuming and
gentlemanly of criminals.
He locks himself up at night when it’s called for.
Sshhh
Is this why everyone is so frozen?
Not one foot put wrong even
in a solemn country way?

The secret getting out?
People wouldn’t understand.
And they’re out there far off by a stream
There could be trouble
And who’s who?
And who’s what?

We sit and watch the glow of quiet spectacle.
The pantomime of the solicitude.
The church raffle.
The apple pie.
The charade where no one knows the answer
If you were uninitiated maybe you would never know.
Imagine the stillness.

Now Opie you stay out of the sun!
But Pa!
I mean it. Now go do as you’re told and get ready for supper.
Oh alright.

They sit quietly around the table
Drinking iced tea and smiling
Nothing’s moving.
You sure know how make a fine piece of
Pie Aunt Bea!
Oh Andy!
No elbows on the table.
Why yes Sir.
Why no Ma’am.

Look, my hair is blond
And my eyes are a funny golden brown
I have a lot of freckles and when it rains
my hair does not know what to do
I wear it in a long braid down my back, tight
Someday I’ll meet a nice blond man and he’ll take me away from here.
I’ll stay out of the sun most days and our children
will be perfect.

A passing moment
So powerful
You simply want them to come back.
While feet slip by
And hearts wander farther away

I sit in this calm breeze
as just a stranger

I know that the wind
will get crisp
as the meadows grow
green

I missed the the turn
of the leaves
as i miss the result

Your hair will grow longer
in the passing of weeks
new crevices
will be made
as you laugh anew
and i will miss it.

The leaves are dying
Drifting down like falling snow
To see the veins which grow thin and pale
To hear their weathered limbs of grey cold
And when his bark and bite is no longer feared
And when her comfortable canvas is stripped away
No branch to catch a falling hand
No root to stretch nor wrap and rest
Too many names already carved
With no new branches left to trim
The colors once which changed with age
Now stay the same till clearer days
Perhaps the spring will no more grow
Perhaps this ends a present-day
But the leaves are dying ever still
And what's more concerning is
How they know, it is their way

I have made many trips wandering far and wide.  I made it home.  Now that I have made my ending journey. A few words I leave you.
My body faded away. I went on to the glorious blue realm of heaven as the splendid fragrance of sage surrounded me.  Those that have gone on before waved me on with laughter and celebration. An angel so beautiful that words cannot explain opened his arms and invited me to make my final trip.
"Don't be sad, be happy for me."
For today I sit at Jesus feet.

My Spirit took flight with angel's breath
Like leaves in the fall that wain as the
new season comes.

I have reached my final home.
I will see you again when your season comes.
"Don't be sad. Be Happy for me."