I'll Never KnowI wish I could just talk to you.
To stay, and chat awhile.
To have met as high school classmates.
I wish I'd met you as a child.
But the only way I know is one
As daughter to a mother.
I'll never know who you truly are
And your many shades of color.
Who was the spark?
Who blazed that day;
Who was that summer child?
Caught between our Lord's sunbeams
And His loving Smile?
That summer child is still within
How I wish that I could meet her!
I'd hug her close, say, "It's all right!"
That nothing will defeat her.
I'll never know to look at you
With a special sort of awe.
Because I am a part of you
I was neither selected nor called.
Yet God chose the very best for you
Your parents; how we miss them so!
They're dancing in your honor, too
In a place we don't yet know.
And I will never really know
Your way of loving Dad.
That bond of decades-long friendship
And love through good and bad.
I'll never know what it felt like
To hold my brother that first time.
To feel him leave your body
Yet to fin
Almost...Almost to the end
Before I ever saw the start,
Close to the heavens and yet I...
Didn't see any stars.
Each and every moment passed
Faster than falling sand,
Going under, grabbing onto...
His now distant, earthly hand.
I wish I would have realized
Just a while before death came
Knowing would have changed so much...
Leaving only me to blame.
RepetitionWhat's the point of a heart?
That it beats with all of its might within your ribs, pounding at your lungs until you can't breathe? That it stops every time something bothers the weakly firing neurons up past the rivers of your veins?
What does it pump through your weary limbs but the icy cold blood that's trudging from your broken valves? They weep and sigh and cut themselves off in a tragic mobius twist. And without an end, what purpose does that familiar slamming and throbbing have?
Just to remind you that it's there, one would think.
Or maybe the point of the heart is to bleed what it receives. To keep the fluid flowing. Just to keep the spirits alive.
Rule no. 1: Give a llama - get a llama!
Because llamas are awesome.
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"it'll be fine"
LiliumTo the wilting lilies on my kitchen counter:
I am reluctant to throw you out.
You bloomed within a day. Well, some of you. I snipped off your blood orange anthers with the kitchen shears, coating my fingertips with pollen before it could dust the slate and stain my clothes. Hand jobs are always easier to clean up.
I forgot to water you once. I'm sorry.
In the mornings I plucked chlorophyll-starved leaves from the countertop and tossed them in the rubbish bin. Your support system fell one by one, even as you still grew and opened up to the world.
Your petals began to turn limp and brown. I cut away the flowers that were no longer beautiful, but insisted the rest were good enough to keep – until they dropped off in pink clumps, leaving bare stigma behind.
There is not much left of you anymore. I putter over a few unopened bulbs among foreign greenery I can't name: small fading leaves and rubbery green leaves with velvet underbellies.
Still, I am reluctant to throw you out.