The sun is just beginning to set, caught in those few minutes where the sky is the most vivid. Like colored tears draining into each other, a golden eye open for just a moment before it's gone.

I drive home with the radio all the way up, the windows all the way down. And this time when you cross my mind, I let the wind take the breath from my lungs. I can't say for sure whether I make any noise at all, only that the speedometer is approaching eighty and the sound of the radio is vibrating my seat.

Nothing we did was ever loud.

I drive by the water, you know it's not on the way home, but I do it anyway. The seagulls outside the car circle and swoop, cawing at the light as it slips away. They drown out the music, somehow, but I still hear your voice in my head, begging me to stay.

You never saw the ocean. Not with me, anyway.

I turn the car around, backtracking until the roads are more familiar. Not that I don't know this town, but some streets I've been driving down since I was in a car seat. This is the path back home. In a sense.

When can you move back home? I hold a hand out the window to catch the breeze, remembering the first time someone asked me that. My new boss, as a matter of fact. And my father shortly after.

Home, as if it isn't still across the country with you.

I try to turn up the radio, but it won't go. I have to stop at a light and a wrinkled man and a woman hidden behind a sunhat look at me. The man's mouth frowns deeply, moving in unintelligible complaints. I wonder if there's enough sunlight left to see the trails the tears have left on my face. Or maybe I look too normal, I never was very good at getting emotional.

This is only a step backwards, is what you told me.

But how could I promise myself, I muse--foot on the gas, goodbye old man--to the life you wanted? Now that my brain's cracked open with the thought of you, it's seeping out through my skin. I feel like I'm burning from the inside out, knuckles white and my every cell remembering how you used to touch me. Hold me. Cry with me. You wanted a family. You wanted a stable life in a stable town. You wanted to fall in love, and we accidentally did. Are you sorry?

I am.

These roads are winding, narrow. I could just about navigate them with my eyes closed. Everything here's just as I remember it, down to the smell of water, the soft dirt. The distant sound of traffic and tree limbs hanging over the road, almost close enough to touch. Like a bubble with every point accessible from the center, just nothing beyond. Contained. Or waiting to pop.

I park the car in the garage. The radio is off but my mind is filled with deafening roar. I still picture what it'd be like to walk through the front door and have you greet me. A fantasy, but my mind itches for it. Instead, I greet the silence.

I only wonder: does the silence greet you, too?

The porch swing creaked gently as Mr. Anderson sat there, his aged hands gripping the cool, weathered wood. He swayed back and forth, a soft rhythm that mirrored the heartbeat of the perfect fall day. The leaves were painting a masterpiece in shades of crimson, gold, and amber, whispering secrets as they descended to the ground.

Across the street, young children gathered in a yard, their laughter echoing through the crisp air. They raked leaves into a sprawling pile and then, with exuberance, leaped into it, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the contemplative stillness on the porch.

Further down the street, the young adults hurried by with grocery bags in hand, their faces etched with fatigue. Their daily grind seemed endless as they navigated the mundane tasks of life. Mr. Anderson watched them, understanding the preciousness of each moment that slipped away.

A young mother strolled past, pushing a carriage with a bundle of hope and dreams wrapped in blankets. She would pause now and then to check on her baby, making sure they were safe and warm in the embrace of the season. Mr. Anderson's gaze lingered on her, seeing in her the endless possibilities of life yet to unfold.

As he continued to swing, a sweet, loving couple, the wrinkles of time etched into their faces, walked hand in hand. They had weathered the years together, enduring what many could not. Mr. Anderson couldn't help but smile as he watched them. He knew the beauty of a love that had stood the test of time. The retired couple passed by the young mother and her stroller, their eyes meeting with a shared understanding. There was no need for words; their presence alone was a testament to the enduring power of love. Mr. Anderson marveled at the journey they had traveled and the wisdom they had gained.

A gust of wind rustled the leaves, and Mr. Anderson's grip on the porch swing loosened. His muscles relaxed, and the coffee cup once gripped tight, slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a soft thud. The world around him seemed to blur as a warm, comforting breeze enveloped him. It was as if the universe itself was whispering secrets only he could hear. The light grew brighter, casting a warm glow that threatened to blind him. A sense of peace and happiness overwhelmed him as he realized he was finally coming home. Though the word "cancer" had never been spoken, the unspoken truth hung in the air. It was a journey he had undertaken with courage and grace, and now, it was time to embrace the next adventure.

As the porch swing continued to sway, empty now, the world carried on, oblivious to the silent departure. Leaves kept falling, children played, young adults hurried, and the young mother strolled with her dreams. The loving couple, forever connected, walked on, passing the spot where Mr. Anderson had once sat.

The scent of each cherry blossom petal

Feels and smells like bliss

Reflection of the night sky

On the glassy surface below

Disrupted as a flower

Drifts onto the surface

The ripples

Float away

In perfect symmetry

Your breath, sweet, warm

Ruffles the hair above my ear

The back of your hand

Brushes against my cheek

And I know.

But then the ripples

Become waves and the flowers

Lose their scent

I sink below the water and soon find

It was never a pond to begin with

I giggle about when we first met. You still had pastels under your fingernails. It was a Thursday and you were towing my car because it threw another fit. The weather was at it's rarest. It was unusually warm for a December in Pennsylvania. You drove me home and handed me a business card.

Please call me

Was written on the back. Two weeks later i’d call you and you'd show up at the same spot where my car threw the last fit. Coincidence or fate maybe? “Same problem?” You'd say. And then you'd give me an odd stare glasses in the night? You'd stay quite while I bite my lip. You'll keep your head down underneath the hood and the car will spit and sputter until it goes silent like that night with you.

I know you wonder why I didn't call but I couldn't just call you. I was in a relationship with a violent man. A man who'd chase me if I ran. And I did and that's why all my stuff was packed in the back seat and it explains the blood on my sleeve. I did what I had to do.

You saw what I wanted to tell you and you looked like you already knew and you still said nothing. I’d tell you where I want to go. And we hop in your truck and we head for the night. You’d grab my hand even with another man's blood on my shirt. You take me as I existed and I’d lay my head on your shoulder. We live happily ever after until the cops find me.

-I guess we both have different ideas of what a friend can be

Because I know a friend wouldn't say those things to me

-It was late one Friday night and I was stuck in a skin that felt too tight

you were supposed to be the key that set me free

Instead you made sure I was there to stay.

You knew you were my crutch, my life-saving medication

And every day you rose the price of your presence and asphyxiation.

I can't forget you or all the things we've been through, but...

I just can't believe you'd say those things to me

-I'm never gonna be loved

I'm never gonna have what everyone seems to have

I'm never gonna be loved

-I like the way his voice sounds

That's ironic 'cause you were the one that sang to me

-You remind me of cigarette smoke

I can't get you out of my clothes

And I've tried so hard to forget you now but

I just can't seem to let you go

Baby it's beginning to snow outside, you know I want you to stay the night.

Honey thats your second glass of wine, we lost track... its like we forgot about time.

But beside all that.. it just feel so right, the way you look in these twinkle lights

I couldnt ask for a more perfect night, I can't remember having a better time.

Baby it's your love I have to have tonight, our body become one, intertwind.

It's not the twinkling lights, has nothing to do with the snow or the glasses wine.

you feel it to gir,l i can tell you cant hide. lets just forget about the world tonight

For the longest time

I hated Death

Yet not from anger

But from fear

I feared

His chilling breath

The whisper-stitched cloak

The dagger-like scythe

Though now

I no longer fear

He is but a friend

Waiting for my time

To join him

On the other side

To the next chapter

The chapter in which

We could be free

Free from pain

Free from the torture

The battle of life

We must endure

He is but a friend

Not a foe

A quiet companion

Not a waiting predator

Death

Dragons

I had to run, to move, to hide. They were coming. They would find me and kill me. I had to get away. I had no silver, nothing to defend myself. Oh dear god they would kill me. The night was black, no moon to light the way, only stars. I saw the gray outline of a building, and ran to it gratefully. Safety, I though. It was a small steel shack, hopefully the metal had some silver, to block me from the dragon's gaze. I quickly bolted the door and barricaded it with a few tools, but too late. It had found me. I heard the flapping of its wings as it landed. Then the terrible silence before I knew it would destroy my defenses and kill me. Then small paws scratched at the door. I instinctively moved to open it, then stopped. I'd heard the stories of the dragons shifting into the shapes of dogs and cats to trick people into letting them in. I backed away from the door. The fact that the dragon was trying to trick me into letting it in meant that I was safe. The corrugated metal must have some percent of silver in it. I was safe. Then I heard it.

"Fine, you know what, fine. I tried to nicely ask, but no, no, no. I have to barge in. I have to expend my energy and hurt myself to get a decent meal. This job really sucks. I need a raise. Yes Fang, you have to flush out the humans while others eat it, blah, blah, blah. Flushing is a noble calling. I don't care if it's noble or not as long as I get to eat." The dragon finished picking the lock, hissing periodically as the silver burned his flesh. I smiled, I would be no easy meal. Silence for a moment. Maybe it had left, gone off in search for easier pray.

"Ah-ha! Yes! I finally some decent food." The door whooshed open, and in came a man with the fur and eyes of a panther. Dragons could shape shift into any animal or person of their choosing, even manipulate the flesh. "This meal should be fantastic! Took me long enough. Best meal I'll have all we-" He did a double take as he looked at me. "WHAT?! ARE YOU JOKING? I FLEW MY BUTT OFF AND BURNED MYSELF JUST TO GET A SKIMPY MEAL LIKE YOU! REALLY?!" I smiled. Maybe it would just go away, maybe I was too small for him. I was only an eight year old. Small and lean, I didn't have much meat on me. Then he sighed. "Waste no want not." It muttered to itself, then started towards me. No this couldn't happen. I frantically though. I have to survive. Had to live.

"Please don't kill me." I begged. That gave the dragon pause, I took my chance. I ran towards the door, barreling straight at the dragon. Zero to twenty in three seconds, that had to be a record. The dragon looked surprised, but his reflexes took effect to quickly. It caught me. I was counting on this. I kicked off the left wall, slamming him into the right. Thing about dragons, silver is the only thing that can harm them, burning them on contact. The dragon made full contact with the wall, making him spasm in pain. I heard the loud crunch of bones snapping. Weak cat bones, it wouldn't be following me for a while.

Sprinting out the door to freedom. I ran headfirst into a massive dragon. It was in it's natural shape, hulking and huge it was more than double the size of the shed. I backed away, then hit the dragon in the shape of a panther man that had just emerged from the shed. I stared at him, how? He should be dead. I should be dead. Three days, no sleep, no food, barley any water. Then a massive, clawed hand encompassed me, and the world turned black as I welcomed unconsciousness.