Sickness

Composed 9/7/15
Description: I wrote this at night so long ago I don’t even remember what brought it on…

You wish me to be happy
But all I breathe is poison in the air
Your daisies might bring a smile
But all the while I seep with sick
I can’t escape it
It’s in my eyes
It coats each face
Each smiling, sweet face
Juxtaposed with fangs and fire
A hot drugged despair
It’s in the air
We’re all sick with it
We just tolerate it
But not me
Not today when it’s all I see
Angel, bring me sleep and
Set me free

The Moment

Composed 5/28/15
Description: I’ve increasingly become aware that I fear this myself.

It couldn’t have been a more peaceful evening.

As the sun began its descent, its beams filtered in through the kitchen window and illuminated her mug-filled hands. She brought the rim to her lips and grimaced only slightly as she swallowed.

Tugging her knit sweater more closely to her willowed frame, she stared outside. It was so bright compared to her dim kitchen that she squinted to clearly see the clouds drifting in the sky, the trees easing back and forth in the breeze.

She was alone. And it was this thought that seized her when the pains came.

She had anticipated death; she did not fear the pain or the passing itself. No, she feared bring alone in The Moment. There was no one to witness, to hold, to say goodbye. She would just be found, gone. No one would see her, speak with her again. Her lasts were finalized, and no one was coming to whisper sweet thoughts as she transitioned into that universally Unknown Place.

So she was afraid. As the mug broke, as she crouched to the floor, as she moaned and laid down, belly up, she was lonely, and she was afraid. It seemed such a cruel fate to live so fully, to have family, to make friends, and die abandoned and alone.

She died in the dark. She died sad.

It wasn’t until then that she could see the beaming silhouette standing beside her. He wore a white cloak – heavy, hooded, and warm. He offered his hand, and she took it. She stood and looked down at The Body and started to cry. But he brushed the tears from her cheek, and she realized she had never really been alone.

Luck

Composed 4/24/15
Description: Something that came to me late last night.

Hold your tongue for the helpless
Save your pity for pride
We live murmuring question marks
Praying for fortunate fates
We could be struck down any moment
So why do you shun the grim?
It could be your face
It’s only by grace you can walk past
But don’t
Don’t let your lips snarl
You can only pull them up
You can fall at anytime

Vulnerable

Composed 4/16/15
Description: For Day 16 of NaPoWriMo. Technically written yesterday, just late in posting!

I was sitting in the hospital as my uncle was having surgery when I wrote this.

You think you’re made of marble
Solid, prowling beasts
But take a knife to stomach
You’re just compressed, vacuum sealed
Meat

In sun you run without worry
But in dark the rot sets in
You thought you’re made of marble
But you’re a miracle, a temple
Of skin

Zombie

Composed 4/4/15
Description: For Day 4 of NaPoWriMo (as I actually DID write this yesterday). Obviously, as the day wore on I felt incredibly lazy and altogether… not well.

My body drains of color
So I fall in pillow mounds
But the mounds just suffocate me
And my pallor turns to green
If I hadn’t been so empty
I could have put color in my cheeks
But I’m stumbling like a zombie
Groaning
Too weak