February 2012
17 posts
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What if I were a tree? Tall and expansive, stretching high beyond the heavens, towering over the angels. If I were a tree, I could root myself in Savannah, Georgia. I could be there for his death. I could save him from it. If I were a tree, I would stand tall, waiting until I saw his car zooming around the corner, trailing an extraordinary life behind it. I would shut my eyes and hold my breath....
I don’t think anyone remembers
I miss him so much. I hate Death I really do and I don’t understand why he had to take him from me. I can’t breathe.
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I am a friend of the devil,
yet I hold the hand of God,
treading in the
blood red waters of
total hypocrisy.
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She thought she was
different,
until she looked in
the mirror and saw
she was exactly
the same.
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“A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.”
– Emily Dickinson
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“Feeling is of the heart and nerves and the crudeness of its expression has...”
– Nathanael West
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The Ashes on My Wrist
The broken watch
around my
wrist
will never let me know
if infinity is over
or eternity
is dead.
It can’t tell me
if I’m late or early,
or count down the seconds
of my immortal life.
But it can hold
in its reflection
the memory
of an unopened Timex
box under a dimly lit
Christmas tree,
and the boy and the girl
who stood beside it,
waiting obliviously
for Time
to...
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A week from today
He whispered in my ear
with a holy voice
that captured my senses
and shoved me to the ground.
He took hold of my
neck and squeezed as
hard as He could,
choking me of what
once existed.
But—-How Can I Begin to Understand Him?
Death is an angel,
quite sacred indeed,
He is a paradox,
an irony,
a metaphor,
a reason,
a figure that never fails
to be honest,
even in a...
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