Like a thick mist that just won't pass I'm getting caught up in the haze.
Heart on its knees fighting to beat, still confused and questioning things in my brain.
I still have puzzle pieces but not enough remnants to make sense of anything.
Love lingers still, while I wake up every day out of a dream that I thought I was wide awake in.
So in the words of Sade,
I've got to wash you off my skin.

6:00 a.m.
It was her 28th birthday
She loaded the ***** laundry into a washing machine
and looked at the toilet that she needed to clean
She fixed her hair, she took a shower
without even looking at her own reflection on the mirror
She grabbed a cup of instant coffee
and gulped ounces of it to steer away the terror
She tossed the cup in the bin
but missed because her hands tremored
And as if time was racing with light speed
she saw the sunset fading away in retreat
She goes to work the next morning
with layers of concealer under her eyes
but she could never conceal her wistful smile
She comes home with her daughter sleeping in her bedroom
And on the sofa was her tired husband
still in his party clown costume
At the corner was the telephone with five voicemails from her mom
but she never found time to listen to her qualms
She glanced at the night sky from her window
with an almost unnoticeable sorrow

One day she woke up and she was 70
Still doing the same laundry
Still drinking the same instant coffee
She looked at her daughter walk down the aisle
with her father who almost never smiles
She brought flowers to her mom's grave
but she couldn't hear her from the other side with the distorted soundwave
She still walks out her doorstep with the same shoes
Almost getting tired of hearing the same news
She still sees the sunset from that window
And she looks out from them with the same almost unnoticeable sorrow

She woke up and she was 28 again
She started to make an effort to notice her face on the mirror
She took time to look at her mom and cheer her
She hugged her husband more and this time tighter
She sank her lips into her daughter's soft cheeks
And never dared to miss a moment when her innocent lips speaks
She walked out the door before the sun could set
to finally buy a new pair of shoes, they were red
She walked the earth as if it were her first time
and she locked her gaze into the golden sunshine

Time passed and she's now 92
And on her deathbed, she said
'If there's one thing that sunsets had taught me,
It is that transitions can be beautiful too.'

A chill wind
prepares the land for sleep
snow-weighted clouds
brush golden-stubbled wheat fields
and bare clotted earth
laid out in heirloom patchwork
stitched from lean and bountiful years.

Poplar trees
arranged in perfectly
contoured lines
resist enforced conformity
their flaming arms
reach for each other
tangle and entwine.

Here,
good souls touch down
like wind-blown seeds
from distant lands
of sunlit love
fading purple twilight
and midnight blackness

gently settling
in fertile, protected hollows
where possibilities rest
and winter-over
awaiting the time to wake
and begin anew.

it's not often that once is Only
and that last is really the End.

forever is only a little
and goodbye is "in theory."

starts and stops are just in the heart.

memories are in the mind.

and the choice is in my hands.

I no longer wake with the memory,
But I constantly dream throughout the day,
a task too hard to keep the ghost of my victims away.

For those who are loved and also love back,
those are the lovers, the lovers that last.

We're all going somewhere else
(some place different)
than where we are right now.
We're all going to go on our way
to somewhere new one day.
I may go with her.
She may go with him.
He may go with me.
But wherever we're going
we're going to be there.
someday soon
someday later
we'll be there

August brought the chilly weather
And the buds of blooming leaves
But you brought the tears to my eyes
And the knowledge that I wasn’t free

December brings snow-covered grounds
And the perfect weather for cuddling
But you brought your hands and that sadistic grin
And made it the perfect weather for smuggling

April brings the shining sun
With flowers popping up from the ground
But with you, came the gray skies
And all hope of being saved was profound

July brought the sun
And the heat with it too
But you brought the insecurities
And the feelings that I wouldn't ‘do’

July said ‘Goodbye’ and moved into August
Giving me hope anew
And with their farewells, just like the seasons,
I said goodbye too.