Passing Angel

You and I,

We used to walk the same path.

Both of us were lost on a never-ending road,

Looking for answers around the darkest corners.

We both were searching for someone.

No one in particular,

Not a soul mate,

Not a friend,

Just someone who could understand.

The stars were brighter when you were walking beside me.

I felt stronger and safer in a world filled with danger.

We lived like we were winning the race,

Both knowing that it was impossible,

We acted like we were in the sky,

While they had us kissing the ground.

I never knew how lucky I was until I lost you,

You walked off the path,

Not leaving even footsteps for evidence.

The comfort you brought was washed away with the rain,

That hasn’t stopped since your hand left mine.

You were my angel,

You made me smile when my world crumbled around me.

Now all I see is the rubble left of what used to be,

My life and everything you meant to me.

Looking back now,

It’s almost as if you never had wings.

Violins

Entranced among the dancing masses,

the violins still play.

Wherever you go, the shadows follow

to slow you, to make you pray.

And you can hide, you can cover,

you can even make a run.

But the sleeping greys,

with their fiery passion,

will straddle along the Sun.

The swaying highs and the morning lows,

combined with all the blue,

stops for no one, no matter what

no matter what you do.

And you can hide, you can flounder,

you can even run away.

But then again, it's all the same.

February, March, April, May.

Ten thousand smiles could light the path

with the words that you'll never say.

Entranced among the dancing masses,

the violins still play.

Seven Minutes In Heaven (Part One)

“They say, when you’re about to die, that your life flashes before your eyes. Time practically comes to a halt and all your memories are relived in that final moment. From your first day of kindergarten when you tried to cut that cootie-infected girl’s hair while you were supposed to be napping. Crying your eyes out the first time you fell after taking the training wheels off of your bicycle, when dad gives you the standard talk about getting back on the horse. High school; finding out who you are and who you want to be. Trying out for the basketball team and tripping over your own feet. Discovering who your friends are and who just wanted to cheat on the Spanish test. And walking across the stage on that final day, without ever telling that special girl how you feel about her. One of many missed opportunities. Like blowing off the SATs to practice with your garage band. I mean, who needs college when you’re gonna be a rock star? Sooner or later though, reality sets in and the only opportunities still afforded to you are a minimum wage job and splitting the rent of a tiny cramped apartment with your former band mates. Sure, there are tough times. Memories you wish you didn’t have to see again. But I’ve realized that in our short stay in this world, the tough times, the difficult and dark days in our past, don’t have to spoil the good ones. Likewise, the good times don’t necessary make up for the bad ones. However… there are some truly perfect times; gloriously shining moments that no depressing thought or forgotten sin can overshadow… like when you stand up in front of everyone you know and say ‘I do’ to the love of your life. Or the first time you hold your baby girl and see just how precious she really is... hear her beautiful shrill voice crying for mommy… feel her take her first breathes of air… and listen to her heartbeat through her fragile little chest while she sleeps…”

Eric trailed off into silence and stared out of focus into his empty palms, gently overlaying each other in his lap.

“Is that what you saw, Eric?” Dr. Parker softly asked, rousing him from his trance-like gaze.

He looked up with glossy, reddening eyes. He was tired. Permanent dark circles and deep cut wrinkles made him appear older than he actually was. His short dark hair and scruffy unshaven face were peppered with pre-mature gray.

“Yeah,” he sighed after a beat, “the last thing I saw was my daughter’s face.”

“Er…” Dr. Parker started.

“BUT,” Eric exclaimed before she could finish a syllable, “but that’s not the end!”

“Oh really?” the doctor asked, somewhat taken aback by the vibrancy of her patient’s words, “What else did you see?”

“You know how folks say they’re in a dark tunnel and see a light that gets closer and closer?” He paused for Dr. Parker to nod in agreement. “Well Tess,” he started with half a grin, “do you know what’s at the other end of the tunnel?”

To be continued...

Sweet Life

Death is inevitable. We all know that life is fragile and must eventually come to an end. However hard we try, we can’t last forever. Despite our own mortality, nothing is more tragic than a life unnecessarily cut short.

There is a history of suicide in my family. My great-grandfather was depressed and convinced he was ridden with cancer, after he shot himself, the autopsy didn’t show a single malignancy. A great uncle divorced his wife then purposely overdosed on sleeping pills. And a great aunt unsuccessfully attempted suicide by cutting her wrists. Because of the impact that suicide has had on my life I know that it is not something to be taken lightly and it certainly isn’t an acceptable way to garner attention. So when teenagers threaten to kill themselves for some trivial reason such as a the end of a 3 day relationship, I, a complete pacifist, am overcome by the urge to hunt them down and shake and/or slap some sense into them!

Where is the perspective? Your life isn’t ruined and the world isn’t ending. Tomorrow the sun will rise and the planet will continue to spin. And on the off chance that it doesn’t, it’s because the sun went supernova and annihilated the solar system, not because your heart is broken.

Some people think that by committing suicide they are “doing the world a favor”. That they are relieving a burden from other people’s lives; perhaps because they have hurt someone and regret it so much that they believe some sort of martyrdom is the only acceptable retribution. In reality, what they’re doing is causing unbearable pain, guilt, regret, and uncertainty on an unknowable number of people.

Sometimes those who consider suicide do so because they think no one cares about them. Think again. Everyone has someone. No exceptions. Even if it’s not someone near you, there are people in this world who care about you... me, for example. Caring about a vast number of people whom you will never meet is a relatively new concept to human nature; nevertheless there are thousands out there, like myself, who care about you just because we share this lifetime.

To consider suicide is to consider that you would be better off dead than alive. Where is the logic? Despite what you may believe, death isn’t like going to sleep and it certainly isn’t like dreaming. Even saying that you see only darkness or nothingness is an overstatement. The neural connections in the brain cease, awareness or consciousness of any sort is simply impossible. If you believe in some form of the soul living on after physical death then suicide makes even less sense! Most religions maintain that killing yourself prevents you from entering their version of utopia (e.g. Heaven). Basically a religious person committing suicide says ‘eternal damnation in a fiery realm of torment would be better than living another day’. Whichever way you look at it, death is final and absolute.

Life is precious. Why is this so hard for us to understand? We consider suicide because we lose all hope. But there is always hope, even if it's beyond our sight. No matter how bleak your outlook, there is always something worth going on for. Always. Everyday has its own sweetness, even the sad ones. You mourn, but you live.

Remember This Parade

We float by as clouds after a rainy afternoon

Our silhouettes dance like reflections inside a foggy mirror

The sun shines brightly on the beating of our hearts

Violins play as wind whistles through gold-colored trees

Bare feet pad across white-washed wooden floors

Lips press softly in between hushed breaths

Hands interlock and whispers cue the interlude

Rain couldn't fall on this glorious parade

Right here, where the streets have no names

Where waves crash endlessly against rocky cliffs

Birds sing melodies to the sound of blood rushing

Bodies dance circles in the dim light

We are a red umbrella under a stormy night

"Love" doesn't sound strong enough for this

This is what happens when two souls collide

Because everything I stand for is in your eyes

Your smile fills my days with blinding light

The warmth of your skin cascades across my body

Sending shivers down my spine, we dance

Midnight spirals pirouette in our dreams

Masquerade the truth and unveil the lies

Haunted as you are by your past, just forget

Now, as the darkness creeps upon us,

Wrap me in your incandescent arms

I am completely fascinated by you

You're always on my mind

Flammable

Heat. Orange. In flames. In fiery streaks of melting construction.
This world which was once built on a foundation of steel and strength has now been molded into a gnarled remainder of what used to be. There is no light. There are no mirrors.


It's just you, and whatever your outstretched arms can gather. Can remember.


Memories. Flashback. Panic. Colors dance in front of your eyes, back and forth, until the shadows dissolve them just like they dissolved themselves. Absent from absence itself.


I'm walking. I'm walking slowly. But I'm going backwards. I know this because they tell me. Everyone.


I'm surrounded. I try to think. Where did everything go wrong? Was it always like this? Have I always been surviving instead of living?


So I breathe. Inhale, exhale. I close my eyes.


Inhale, exhale.


I'm living. I'm living. Slowly.


Heat. Orange. In flames. In fiery streaks of melting construction.


This world will never change. This world will never be the same.


Inhale, exhale. Just like our parents. Just like our ancestors.


Just like our neighbor who's on the registered sex offender list. Just like the girl that looks in the mirror every morning, every night, every chance she gets, hoping that one time she won't be disappointed by what she sees. The swelter never leaves.


Heat. Orange. In flames. In fiery streaks of melting construction.

Side of Time

Winds of ice
rip through the thin fabric of my sweater,
piercing my chilled bones.
In a world of shadows,
I'm all alone.
I open my eyes,
and peer through my eyelashes of snow;
everything is blanketed in a blinding white,
but I know better.
I exhale slowly,
and watch as my warm breath battles the cold air,
spiraling forever upwards.
I raise my eyes,
tracing every peak and curve of the mountain ahead of me.
My heart begins to race,
as my hands begin to reach, without having to be asked.
It's twilight.
The last rays of sun kiss my frozen cheeks,
before disappearing behind a blanket of darkness.
I begin to climb,
my limbs knowing exactly how to bend and twist to meet
every obstacle.
My mind leaves,
swirling into pictures and pieces, trying desperately
to detach.
My heart holds tighter,
as pain and desire rip through my whole being.
Gritting my teeth,
I climb higher.
Reach, grab, pull.
The actions spill over into words,
that I whisper under my breath.
Time disappears beneath my feet,
as my concentration waives.
I feel myself slipping,
but I don't resist.
Once more, I repeat the words,
before releasing my slight grip on the edge.
I feel like a feather,
drifting to earth,
a forgotten piece of a whole, that no longer needs it
to be complete.
The wind coarses through me,
working with gravity, pulling me ever closer.
"No!" I gasp, throwing out a desperate hand.
Crude rocks slice through the soft pads of my fingertips,
as I climb, while falling.
Slowly, my world pulls itself to a halt,
placing me back in time.
Words flow through my mind, and leave my lips once more.
Only now, I am singing new words,
a lullaby of sorts.
Gentle words to remind my heart,
that even though I'm climbing,
it's only to fall apart.