The last time I saw him

in the mist of his oblivion

his footprints whispered goodbye

harsh rain soaked into my soul

I clung to him with tears of no return

the heavy weight of water pulled him

away from me into his vague future

I wish I could swallow more time

keep it safely tucked into my belly

before he floated away from me

stagnant air festers in my head

as my haunting words linger in air

pleading for one more chance

but I only hear the echo of my voice

reverberating in the empty night

“Please stay, oh please stay with me.”

I am left with little piles of memories

encapsulated deep within my heart

as he vanishes forever from my view.

The last time I saw her

she still lived in London, still crimped and coloured her hair. Rich purple out of a tub of Plum Directions. 

She still worked the coat check at the same long standing Slimelight club, dabs of speed, cans of pilsner or better snakebites, up past dawn when everyone emerged paler and blinking into the morning work rush.

Her fingers and arms were still heavy with chunks and slips of silver. Attentively polished bracelets and rings. Bats, skulls, snakes and dragons, a flash of amethyst. Some pieces mementos from the countries she’d visited, many from Camden Market. 

Her room was still a mess just as it had been when we shared rooms in Chalk Farm, Peckham and Vauxhall. Her stuff overflowing onto my side. Tights, tops, skirts, mostly black, some purple, bottles of alcohol, bottles of pain killers and in time, other medication, cigarette papers, piles of tobacco mixed with hash, pint glasses, jewelry, tissues, so many tissues, balled up dotting the carpet. She had allergies and lots of pain. She bled a lot too. Not just uterine issues, but from cuts along her arms, under her bracelets. She used to drip the blood onto paper and create tiny pieces of abstract art. She used to black out in toilet cubicles and stumble down London lane-ways. Laugh about it. She met life with equal measures of humor and woe. And a steadfast resourcefulness, holding down several jobs, finding flats to squat or rent cheaply. When we first arrived in London she found the people and places we were looking for.

The last time I saw her she was still her unique self, wacky, intelligent and living her truth. Still funny, still gregarious, a talented singer and a great listener. Yes, she was addicted and fucked up, her ways laden with instability, always the last one ready, rummaging through her things looking for a misplaced item either in a panic or irritatingly nonchalant. But she had been like that for so long, to me, it was just who she was and I never really thought about it. Things began verging on too unstable though and after her parents died her brother and his wife got her to go back to LA and into rehab. I got one letter from her while she was inside but never saw her again.

The last I heard she was clean, engaged and training to be a counselor. One evening after work in some kind of rehab coffee shop she was walking to her car and dropped dead in the parking lot from a heart attack. She was buried with all her jewelry.

I remember the first hug you gave me out of joy

Second grade

You made it to the art show

Your smile made me smile for weeks

That night we went to the park

The one across the street

You loved to sit on the top of the tallest slide

It was our tower

We sat there until your mom called you home

I remember looking into your eyes

Blue like the morning sky

Visible even in the dark of the night

You were my day in the night

I remember the first hug you gave me out of fear

Fifth grade

We were walking home

We both missed the bus

There was fresh snow with more falling down

You were slipping

Your eyes were wide with fear

You were falling

But I caught you

You held onto me so tight

You wouldn’t let go until we got to the park

We stayed there

We didn’t go home until 11:30pm that day

You wanted to see the stars

The stories you would tell me

The more alive the stars became

I remember the first hug you gave out of sadness

Junior year

You got called down to the office

We were in history class

When you came back

I saw you fall to the ground

I couldn’t catch you

You fell so fast I couldn’t get out of my chair in time

The teacher let me sit with you in the hallway

No words came out of your mouth

All you did was hug me

Hugged me so tight

I couldn’t breathe

But you needed me and I was not going to let you go

You passed me a note

Asking to meet

I had to sneak out that night

But I got to see you

You asked if I remembered the stories you told about the stars

The knights of the night

I couldn’t forget

You brought the stars to life

You tried to hide your tears

Your eyes were lights from miles away

But tonight, they were cloudy

The moon pulled the ocean from your eyes

I hugged you

I hugged you out of fear

I hugged you with everything I had

I hugged you to tell you I loved you

You laid in my arms on top of the slide

You wanted to hear a story with the stars

Just like you had done before

I told a story

The story of the two kids

The two kids who would search the world

For answers to life's greatest wonders

You fell asleep in my arms

I carried you home

Before I let go

You hugged me like never before

The emotion unexplainable

It was confusion

It was sadness

It was love

And it was the last

I remember the last hug you gave me

Little had I known at the time it was the last

You weren’t at school the next day

Your mother didn’t answer the door

Your father didn’t return my calls

You were gone

We had been friends since elementary school.  And like the fool I would become, love struck me at an early age, or what I thought was love...

But as the rock music of the 70's gave way to the punk music of the 80's,

I came into my own in high school, we were still friends.

We were friends that just talked on the phone.  We saw each other in school, but we only waved.  We had to watch our reputations as she was in with the "in" crowd and I was a poor kid who made it into the college prep classes.

When she got pregnant at 16, I was at the hospital and saw her face, that she didn't want me there because other friends were there.  So I took the clue, I stopped calling her, but then when she saw me two months later she asked why had I stopped calling.

It was the hope of the hopeless that made me call her again, pick up our phone calls that would last for hours.  What I remember most about her, in those days was that when she walked into a room, she had this glow about her.  That's what I remember about her. I think for her, she got used to me calling because at this stage it was five years.

At graduation, we hugged but then she went to the parties of the night and I went to my friend's house where we played D&D because we were free.  I wanted to be with friends where I was king of the nerds and hold my own court.

We kept in touch, not calling daily like I used to, but every few weeks if not once a month.  She was there when I did my tour of the state colleges and when I finally graduated.  

I was there when she found love at 21 and when he proposed.  I was there when she sent an invitation that I sent back with zero attending at age 23.  It was the same year my dad gave me another lesson, "Don't go there thinking you can change her mind, she's made her choice..."

I didn't hear from her again till I was 31, when it just so happened that I worked at the same place she did.  I didn't know it till the second month on the job when she returned from maternity leave.  I was answering phones when she turned the corner and I swear to God, her glow never faded.  We talked every now and then, catching up between two old acquaintances because, really, that's what we were.  

But, two months after coming back she left without a word, the job was too much for her.  She came in over a weekend and cleared out her desk, not leaving a note or message that she was going.  She was just gone.  That was the last time I saw her...that was the last time I let those feelings out...

The last time I saw her was on launch day. The wind blew bitterly cold, but the sun still shone brightly in the winter sky. She carried only one suitcase, as if the whole of her life were not important enough to take with her. As if I weren't important enough. There. I admitted it.

We started off so promisingly, or at least it seemed so to me. We met in that little bar down in the Village, a quaint little holdover from the vast building boom of New York's early 21st century. She looked at me coyly as I made my way up to the bar, and I bought her a drink - a vodka martini, two olives. Her lips and tongue played with the olives as if she were kissing them full throttle, her eyes darting to me every few seconds to see my reaction. I turned away slightly so she couldn't see how excited I was getting, but it didn't seem to make a difference. A few drinks later, I took her home, and we writhed like hermaphroditic worms until the sun came up. She was even more beautiful in the light, deep-set brown eyes and arched brows, her features fine but not delicate against the softness of the pillow.

We were together two years. Or maybe I should say, we were a couple for 1 1/2 years and barely connected individuals the last six months. Something changed. She became restless, distant. We stopped going out. She quit her job, got another, quit that one too. We yelled, we screamed, but we stopped communicating. Then she dropped the bombshell. There was a freighter leaving for Mars in a month, and she had already booked passage on it. No "should I go?" No "want to come with me?" It was the same gypsy blood I had never questioned when it had brought her to me. She needed to move on now. Move away from me.

I rode to the spaceport on launch day to catch one last glimpse of her, or maybe, if I was being honest with myself, to try one last time to convince her to stay. It didn't matter - the passengers were boarding so far away from the gate that she couldn't hear me over the crowd scream "I still love you!" to her. But I swear I saw her head turn just a bit, the little impish smile playing once again across her lips. It didn't matter if it were real; it was a fine snapshot to remember her by.

My mom always told me that good things happen to good people. That even in death there are good things all around us. People are born inherently good and they only do bad because we conform to the norms of society. I loved her. The most strong and beautiful woman alive. She made babies laugh with the sparkle in her eyes and moved mountains with the passion in her heart. She bled pride and nothing but confidence pumped through her veins. She was unstoppable. All they can say is that the last time they saw she was beautiful. The last time they saw her she was two. The last time.....STOP!!!!!! Look I'm sorry but who are YOU!!! You have no compassion for others. You keep saying trivial words and all they do is float in the air. You don't have the power to penetrate my heart. Where were you at 3am during the accident? I was by her side from dusk till dawn day in and day out. Where were you? Calling yourself family. Crying fake tears of selfish desire and greed. I don't need you. I hate you.

The last time you saw her you planned her departure.

The last time I saw her she was my ray of sun shine.

The last time I saw her she was the waves leading me through the fog.

The last time I saw her she said that she loved you.

The last time I saw her she kissed my forehead.

The last time I saw her she gave it her all and went into a blissful slumber.

Beautiful. Wonderful. Just like a fairy tail princess only now there is no prince charming because fairy tails don't exist.

The last time I saw her she was with me.

Now

Forever 

Always

The last time you saw her she was a caterpillar eating her way through her depression. puking her melancholy and wrapping herself in a cocoon of longing emotions but she finally broke out.

The next time you see her she will be a bright monarch soaring the skies. She will be as beautifully painted as the smile on her face and her happiness will be portrayed in the folds of her wings and the way she glides through the blue skies like a leaf in the wind. She has learned to love herself without the view of others affecting her.

She had neither beauty nor compelling grace; just an uncanny ability to encompass a room with a smile that left a mark on every soul. 

The last time I saw her, she graced me with that smile and a thousand memories exploded. 

Of summer camp, and sleepovers on the living room floor. 

Of dancing like fools until we collapsed. 

Of pillow fights, and baking cookies. 

Of talking about our first kisses, and reading novels by the river.

I can still hear her infectious laughter. 

Still see that toothy grin that lit up her hazel eyes. 

Still feel her ferocious hug

And I know my blistered soul still bears the mark of her smile.

The last time I saw her, 

I didn't realize it would be our last encounter.

It's been a year since the angels took her to heaven,

Yet my mind is still so full of regret.

I can't make sense of why this happened. 

Our. Family. Is. Broken.

Forever changed by tragedy.

There is nothing anyone can say or do.

The pain, the anguish, the broken heart, does it ever stop?

What was meant to be a day of celebration is now a day of mourning and sorrow.

I'll never be able look at an evergreen the same way again.

All because of the reckless actions of a disturbed man.

I want to hate him but God tells me to forgive.

Forgive a monster? There's no justice here. 

70 years-to-life just isn't enough to replace the life you took from Earth.

I hate myself for blaming you. 

But it wasn't her time to go.

Bring her back to us right now.

Just tell me that none of this is so.

The last time he saw her was when she placed her hands on his shoulders and smiled. She had been as radiant as ever and the fear in her eyes was nowhere to be seen, replaced with grim determination. She knew she was marching into the flames and that didn't scare her a bit. She had always been brave. However, the last time that he saw her....Well, she hadn't truly been like that. He could feel how her whole body trembled and he could see how that smile was forced, how she was trying to lie for both their sakes. It broke him inside. The night before, when she had assured her parents and friends that all would be alright, that she had a plan she had been faking that happiness. She feared her next actions. That's why he had told her that he would go with her, into hell and back. She had refused. He hadn't listened and neither had Dream. They would never abandon their closest friend - Fate Existence. She was more to them than she would ever know.

   And now, when he could feel the numbness taking over his body and he knew he was dying, he didn't regret that descion. He didn't regret his words when he had last seen her. And more than anything he didn't regret finding her and seeing her. He was content. The last time he had seen her she had been with him and that was enough.