I am a

blue jeans

blue eyes

kind of girl.

You are a

brown leather jacket

brown eyes

kind of boy.

We both love

falling into the depths

of books.

You can’t get enough

of everything from history

to the wardrobe leading to Narnia,

but romance has never really

been your thing.

I can’t get enough

of the spark between

holding hands and eye contact

for just a little too long

in all the roma...

He hugged

his daughter and wife,

tightly.

His daughter and wife boarding,

the doors closing,

the plane ascending,

the terrorists plotting.

His raised hand waved goodbye,

unknowing,

ignorant,

clueless,

as to what would happen.

He turned to leave,

his body now in another’s hold,

the chloroform soaked rag at his mouth,

while everything went black.

He awoke

to find his body now in chains,

s...

You must understand,

the moment I heard of your death

my heart fell out of my chest.

It fell to the ground,

and like a tender piece of fruit,

it bruised.

My own two hands

were wiping the globs of tears

rolling down my face,

with a searing hiss

they burned my skin.

Grief was the one

who picked my heart up off the dirt,

and gave it a home.

It held my bruised bloody heart,

like a piece of f...

Grief is a fickle thing.

It has

such a different, unidentifiable shape

compared to love, sadness, anger.

I can hold love

in my heart,

cradle it even.

I know what it is.

I can allow myself

to feel sadness,

and nurture it with my tears.

It is familiar.

I can throw my fists in the air

holding my anger by the throat,

feeding it all the more.

I remember its poison in my mouth.

Grief

hi...

You’re fine.

You’re fine.

You’re fine.

And then for the first time

in weeks

you truly laugh.

You don’t feel

the lingering weight

of grief of your shoulders.

You laughter carries

through the heartache

and the pain.

But

you look over

to see their beautiful face

laughing with yours,

and reality

comes crashing back down again.

They are not there.

It hurts

all over again,

like a fresh wou...

I narrow my eyes

focusing on the horizon.

There are so many

fulfilled dreams and desires,

just laying there.

I allow my eyelids to fall shut.

Wind sweeps my hair

into my face,

as it howls with a broken cry.

I am not there yet,

but I will be.

Despite

the looming gray clouds

and the

harrowing feeling in my chest,

hopeful sun rays

break through the sky,

beaconing me to take

another step....

If your hand

could reach inside my heart,

what would you do with it?

If I held it out for you to touch

pulsing, pumping, beating with life,

could I trust you?

It is a raw bloody thing,

yet even in all its tenderness

it is strong.

I have given it

to people who did not give a care,

while I still did.

And I have

bled and bled and bled,

so much.

And still,

I refuse to regret any of it.

I r...

Your life here

with me

was like a poem.

One classic beginning

filled

with a terrifying beauty.

One classically ending,

just like that,

with a guttural, tangible pain.

Oh!

Your story had barely been written,

barely been given breath

to its words.

In the womb

you lived.

In the womb

you died.

I loved you,

before you,

my darling poem,

were written.

I love you still,

after you,

my darl...

I stared into my father’s red rimmed eyes,

and I knew.

He is dead.

My baby brother is dead.

I had really believed

with every damn fiber of my being

he wouldn’t die.

No. No. No.

Grief grips me by the throat.

It’s hands

squeeze and squeeze

until I have no more

tears left to stain my skin with sorrow.

My heart has fallen out of my chest.

With every breath

the pain only gets heavier...