My Father's mother wrote me a check
And though she has a checkbook
with her name on it
From four years ago,
She sent me the decadent sum
of twenty-five dollars
On a slip of paper with a name
that was of her husband,
My Father's Father,
And still is.

When I look at this check pinned to my wall
I am reminded of the man,
The eighteen-wheeling man,
And how a few years ago I was afraid
and unamused
So I did not peek into his open casket.

It was a year since I had seen him,
And 'goodbye' escaped my lips (which were sealed
incredibly) until he was lowered.

I hope he went to heaven; if he did not
I am sure I will say 'hello'
After I cash this check,
But not yet.

A rock . . .
well really the brow of a rock . . .
its heart lay deep and hidden,
but when I lay my cheek against it
in the heat of the summer it cooled
and I could feel the great primeval thump of its heart
comforting me, when nothing else was understood.

I clutched this great rock,
my only constant in a life of changes,
while the earth itself, with me holding on tight,
flew at increasingly careless speeds
throughout my teenage years.

Beneath the arched viaduct it squatted
uncomplaining of the shafts of steel
and the weight of the stone it carried;
my teenage weight, of little importance.
It was always there when I came,
in dream, or even reality
taking the time to be calm and listen
as I told it of my hurts and young confusions.

One Summer, I foreswore all others
and promised it my heart,
if it would only turn it to stone,
and though the Rock it listened,
I knew the answer without us having to speak;
I was being selfish
and it would have given all of its
great and brooding strength
to feel, just a little, of my pain.

                                                      ©Copyright Niall OConnor 2012/2014

I fooled myself.
I really did.
Thinking i could keep my head held up high today,
who was I kidding.
Who was I kidding?

By the start of morning I was already overwhelmed by the thought of you,
by the end of noon I was in distress
by the end of the day I finally broke down and cried
and right now, well I'm still a mess. I can't lie.

I am so pathetic.
But, I don't care. I still ******* need you. I need you.
I would do anything for you to come back.
You are my best friend,
the bestest friend anyone could ever have.

5 years ago

A 13 year old girl awoke
Thinking that everything
Was as it always had been
But still, something didn't feel right

5 years ago

The shock of it all
Numbed the 13 year old girl
She walked around in a daze
Everyday was the same

5 years ago

The flowers piled up
The condolences overwhelmed
The 13 year old girl
Just wanted everything to stop

5 years ago

All the problems started
The selfharm; depression
The 13 year old girl
Turned to thoughts of letting go

5 years ago

On exactly this day
I, a 13 year old girl awoke
But everything was not okay
Nothing felt right

5 years later

An 18 year old girl
Grieves the loss of her mother
A 46 year old woman
Who died suddenly

Exactly 5 years ago