Just a speck in the universe,

Debris floating in the wind.

Nothing more than an image

Of how small we truly seem.

Just a star in the masses,

A bright glow in the midst.

As luminescent as we can be,

Still eclipsed by other beams.

Yet we are still here in the world,

Working long and hard

To become more than a speck,

To shine as bright as the sun.

So thoroughly convinced that the product of persistence was a love that I’d been told of when I was just a kid, I was wed to my misery in the hope that at the ceremony you’d interject, but you never did. Now seven years on, bitter and resentful, I still contemplate what I did to deserve the glimpses of affection you used to distract me, as you were filing my teeth to the nerve.

I know you were the death of me, but still in spite of everything, I hope that you are finding sleep while I still lay awake. And though my throat is burning now it’s still so quiet in the house; the emptiness you occupied is more than I can take.

Tell me, are you ashamed? ’Cause I felt alone and you watched as I decayed, I slipped through your hands as I faded. I’ve tried to forget, but your love will make a museum of me yet, I just hope you know how long I’ve waited.

Though reservoirs of self-disgust have swollen up inside my lungs, Pulmonary Oedema is no substitute for love that once lay its head upon my chest, a comfort cradled motionless; but I have come undone, my love is not enough.

I know it’s hard to watch your light fade from my eyes, but darling, for my sake, you’ve got to let it die. My weathered hands have dug this grave enough, it’s time for us to bury our love.

Tell me, are you ashamed? ’Cause I felt alone and you watched as I decayed, I slipped through your hands as I faded. I’ve tried to forget, but your love will make a museum of me yet, it kills me to say I’m still waiting.

Layers of scars splatter across my thighs

Like an abandoned game of pick up sticks with my dry bones

So close to another line I never noticed before

Bold and blue it cries out like a mighty river flowing beneath my skin, begging to be noticed

One step further, one step deeper

One relapse away

I used to wonder--how close from close is too close?

My veins call out the answer: "As close as a razor's edge."

Am I here when I hear the tremble

in your voice as you tell me about

how we are going to have a picnic on the moon someday?

About how there once was a girl who tried so hard

to fly that she grew angel wings?

Am I here when you tell me how it feels to dance,

to hold me close, to sway while the record player resonates

amidst the lethargic buzzing of flies and sticky residue of sweet tea?

Am I here when you tell me that someday,

we will hide in the kitchen and eat leftover pie,

our socked feet curling together on the linoleum?

Oh darling, the sun was bright then,

and will be now,

searing our eyes, reminding us of when

Mama told us not to look into the sun,

joining us together in mutual blindness.

For now, I am satisfied by the delicate scent of your perfume,

musk and the ocean and you.

Is this but the sweet torture of heaven,

to be so close to you

for want of coming home?

Where am I as I admire the way our fading memories shimmer?

As seraphim dance in the setting sun,

as I jump, laughing, into the warm salt of the ocean,

waves carrying me home?

Goodbye bestfriend

We've drifted apart

Goodbye sister

You've chosen your path.

Goodbye bestfriend

I will never forget you

Goodbye sister

Neither will I ever forgive you.

Goodbye bestfriend

You've chosen to stop responding

Goodbye sister

I'm tired of calling.

Goodbye bestfriend

You've found someone else

Goodbye sister

I've given up on anyone else.

Mourning lost hope

Memory of what could've 

Suddenly snatched 

Physical changes 

The crib, toys, and small clothes 

Returned and erased 

They look with pity

"Her body: a failure."

Hushed whisper and blame 

Couldn't sustain. Why?

Try for a positive sign,

but it's negative 

the child, eight, young girl

in a new pink outfit

sequined skirt

frilled shirt

beautiful luscious blond hair

shiny and soft to the touch

pale, delicate skin

bright pink lips and white crooked smile

holds her teddy bear

clutching its brown matted curls

"Mommy, I'm starving"

she whines drawing out the r sound

loudly exclaiming for all to hear

listening, a child next to her, a young boy

in tattered, ruffled clothes

mud stained blue pants

hole filled formerly white shirt

dark hair with hints of brown dirt at the tips

dusty to the touch

broad lanky shoulders and a

worn down face with 

dry white chapped lips

his skinny older face

covered with wrinkles and

aged too quickly

he stares blankly at the little girl

next to him

and softly utters

"me too."

Daddy: the first man I ever loved; only by default

You: the boy I trusted enough to love,

            and the one that hurt me the deepest.

The mind outweighs the body when it’s in pain, even with me

The body heals over time, but the mind rots in regret and unanswered questions

How did this happen? Why me? How did no one hear me scream?

                                  I was never the same:

               Scared, anxious to trust, and only angry at myself.

You: the first to deny what happened, 5 years ago

Daddy: the last one to know what you did, 5 years later