Fallen angels and pixies and such,
Look into Earth’s skies,
Remembering much,
Of their life as it was,
Time and energy fields,
From the young star above us,
To the way the wind feels...

Could it ever compare
To the home that once was?
Oh, I say to you, “yes…”,
Yes, it can,
And it does.

Nights like tonight are the hardest;
Clear bluish black skies-
the deepest velvet cradling the full moon...
These nights are hardest, because I
still remember her silhouette
in silvery moonlight; My angel,
my darling, sleeping peacefully
as I cradle her close...
A dream come true, but now-
just a dream; One borne of
clear bluish black skies-
the deepest velvet cradling the full moon...
Nights like tonight are the hardest.

i feel wistful
As the grey smoke
that escapes your lips

Reminiscing the past
Where i scolded you
For being careless of your health
And you promised
You wouldn't puff another ever
Since you didn't want me to worry

But ever since you left
I guess i couldn't help you anymore
And you went back to your old ways

Like you were living to die
And i was dying to live

And now i cannot do anything
To save you anymore
But to watch you turn yourself
Into ashes
Just like how we burned out

You make me think of mornings and you remind me of things that I'd lost, without it hurting.*

(A)

She
We sit at coffee tables and look at each other. My gaze on yours is heavy. You never seem as troubled as I feel. If the world were a river, and we stood in the middle, you were the one who went with the flow, and you changed it, to move wherever you wanted to go, knowing all along that you could. I turn my back on the current, weak and shuddering as it rushes towards me, past me. I like the smile on your face, the fact that you want to be my boat.


(B)

He
We sit in the kitchen; it's bathed in the morning glow. Your eyes are gently closed, palms cupping a coffee mug, held to your lips. We are kept warm this moment in time, while the curtain gently flutters in the morning breeze. I don't know what to make of you. The way you always seem suffused with light. You bring me my day and my night; and the brightest I have ever seen the moon is in your eyes.


(C)

She
You're like evening gowns and the words 'nothing to worry about'. Tears of joy when all your life you have been taught to pray, but never with the certainty that your prayers would be granted; tears of joy when after all these years you got what you were looking for anyway. I still kneel at the foot of the bed we joyfully tumble into each night. My lips, so used to smiling, since you came, repeat 'thanks,' softly, certainly.

(D)

He
I think you are the chance I was given to do everything over again. You found me in troubled spirits and I love you in good cheer. We started with nothing, a thousand miles apart, and then I found you (and the other way around) and together we found: this round table made of wood, these throw pillows, a sofa. Our friends say it's a start, but you tuck your head against my chest, with a knowing smile, and whisper: *"It's every happy ending I could have ever imagined."

softly beating
a soul that refuses to fold
smiles that crumple, smiles
that are too bold

a weak pass, an afternoon
nap, a series of near-collapses

translucent pink curtains

eyelids that don't keep out the light;
eyelids that don't keep in the
dark
night

Listening to Music,
Slipping between the notes,
Letting myself get lost in the feeling-
The emotion- and stealing
Back the last bit of sanity.
The bit that I had been using
As a tug-o-war rope
Between me and the people
Who can't really see.

Writing.
Letting the thoughts flow
Through me as I dream of
Something soothing,
And creating something
Great to share with others.
Something maybe they
Can relate to,
But it's okay if they can't,
Because to be honest it was meant
More for self-healing than
For others' need to critique.

Art.
All aspects,
From drawing to painting
To molding and crafting or knitting.
Something to paint the scene
That's in my head,
The one that I can't see dead.
A form of venting,
True,
But also of sharing a view.
Casting to canvas,
Or whatever else you'd use,
The beauty of the world,
Or the painful bits,
You choose.

Escapes from my reality,
A cruise around the world,
A chance to see my dreams
In actuality,
Instead of forgetting them too soon.
A chance to chase my pain away,
To feel a little less bruised.
A moment to breathe with ease
At least, and it's never a moment to soon.

TODAY WAS THE DAY THAT IT HAPPENED WE FINALLY BROKE TIES
BUT WHAT IF THINGS HAD BEEN DIFFERENT WHAT IF I HADN'T TAKEN THAT
ROAD TO MY CLASS OR HADN’T DECIDED TO PASS BY YOUR HOUSE TIME
BY TIME TO SEE YOUR FACE I’M LOSING TRACK OF TIME HERE AND
THE ONLY THING THAT’S ON MY MIND IS YOU AND HOW YOU SAID I DIDN’T MATTER ANYMORE FACE IT WE BOTH KNEW THIS DAY WAS COMING ANYWAY
AND THAT ROAD THAT HAS BEEN BECKONING ME TO FOLLOW IS HERE
JUST REMEMBER THAT I WOULD THROW AWAY THE WHOLE WORLD FOR YOU
G O O D B Y E

Sit down next to me
I'll tell you a story
About watching someone fall apart before your eyes
Watching the skin advance closer to the bone
The personality wither away
A cancer journey

Sit down next to me
I'll sing you a song
About the pain that is ever present and the shaking in her hands
About the confusion in her deep brown eyes as she is lost a little more to me, to herself, each day

Sit down next to me
I'll draw you a picture
About the last few days with her where she barely opened her eyes
Where she was hardly present with the substances that raced in her blood
Where she was panicked, confused and her mind was going, going, gone
Where I had to look hard to find traces of the woman I'd known

Sit down with me and I'll paint it on canvas
The desperation
The helplessness
Feeling unexplainable in it's entity
Fear and grief mingled into an indistinguishable snarled being
A living presence in that hospital room
Of the prayers, prayers, prayers
For it to be over,
For her peace and
For mine

Sit down next to me
I'll show you the pictures
Of her youth where she swam, climbed trees and skinned knees and grinned with mischief
of her first child, second child, the brief moments of smiles hugs and love, the third and the fourth and first steps and cuddles
The mystery, questions without answers and untold stories mingled with the stories with too many versions to piece together the puzzle
The life of a woman who we called our mother.