The parameters of our lives are defined by the memories that echo through our heads at 2 am.

*I still love you but this just isn't working.
Have you ever considered medication for this?
It was instant. He didn't feel any pain.
You're just not cut out for this.
I think he's seeing someone else.
Time of death, 4:48.
Have you heard the news?
Are you sure you want to do that?
You're just not a good fit for us at this time.
We need to talk.
Just heard back from the doctor. Cancer. Stage 4.
Don't leave me.
50 years didn't seem so long, in retrospect.
Honey, listen...
It's just a routine checkup, nothing to worry about.
I never meant for this.
It's terminal.
I'm so sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, but...
Goodbye.
I have to go.
I'm leaving at the end of the month.
I'll miss you.
Goodbye.

Tiny pieces of you
Linger in my very being
Burning embers of brimstone
Sulfur fills each breath
I stop to smell the roses
They turn to ash at my touch
At you within me
Particles spread as I cough you up
Multiplying in the air
Dancing with joy
At their new-found freedom

Tiny pieces of you
Rotting my soul and consuming my spirit
Burning pinholes in my brain
Memories burned away
Shadow of pain still sore, still raw

Lingering, lingering, lingering

I settle beneath, quilt & blanketed sheets
for another tear-jerking,
heart stopping
conversation.

Between the lines of shared irony, affection disguised
we behave in such tyranny, over what we
could've & would've had in our
lives.

But, it'll all get better, it'll all be okay
I'm here for you whenever you need me, which ever way
tonight, this is what I'll
say:

My eyes well up over the passing thoughts of yesterday
My heart pounds in my chest, my ears scream &
vision starts to sway. How could I have ever let you


                                                      slip away?

I forgot your name, in the
process of trying to remember.
It danced and spun on the tip of my tongue, then
fell to the floor, shattering into fragments of blue,
guilt stained glass. You, with
wide eyes and a firm frown, watched and cringed
at the sight of this, and I was left attempting
to remember the name of the girl of my dreams while
she stormed out of my life in those pretty six inch
heels. It wasn’t until you were gone that I remembered
everything, except how to forget you.

your truck drives by;
blinds me with shiny red paint
that seems much more pristine than when I drove it.
mud aside--there will be mud
because that's the nature of your play:
together you romp in the open terrain
over grassy hills and splashing through
beckoning hot puddles that douse your windshield
where tiny wipers wipe in reverse--
that always killed me.

your truck drives by,
and I look away,
then immediately look behind me
and search in the flash back, the seconds of time
when we were in the same space
at once
because there are no mistakes in this universe,
and I find meaning in this moment:
the red, bright, mud,
especially the sound of my sobs,
drowning out the stereo.