i can’t promise you
it’ll be an easy ride
but i will hold your hand
and dance with you
when your time comes
and the music stops
playing, i’ll bring you flowers
everyday and decorate your grave
and when tomorrow arrives
and you’re not here
i’ll cry, i’ll say goodbye
but tomorrow won’t die
how would i know
there isn’t a single part
of me in your head
you don’t think
about me, i dream
of cotton candy clouds
and salty blue skies
you revel in
dark oceans and nightly storms
i know how to exist
but it’s not near you
we took our seats
on plastic worn out
chairs, tired walls
surrounded us, painful
carpets rolled out to welcome
us, i wish it was a happy
time, as each minute
ticked by we waited
crossed our fingers
and held onto hopes
they wheeled your bed
round, you smiled
you actually smiled
and said i’m okay
if only the ending
turned out the same way
your chapter
came to an end
just six months later
i carry you with me
wherever i go
because you know
grief is love
with nowhere to go
i am the one
that keeps my head
down, the one that speaks
in soft whispers
and gentle tones
the one that shudders at
loud noises
and irritating voices
i am the one
that though quiet
is listening to
every word you
haven’t said
to every thought
in your head
that you can’t explain
i am the one
that writes
every memory
alive on the page
the one that connects
the dots
to find an answer
but if you hurt her
if you push her
too hard
if you must know
it will spell disaster
there’s nothing new
for me to document today
the same pain
that lived yesterday
remains in its place
it doesn’t wait at the door
it doesn’t knock
it doesn’t wait to be let in
it lives in my veins
it lives in my head
it lives with or without me
don’t show me in the light
turn it off
don’t highlight me
in your soft beams
don’t illuminate my features
you can keep them in your dreams
i won’t move to the light
i’m not a moth
please stop
eyes flicker open
but don’t adjust
to the brightness
lighting above
a pressure sits
heavy on the head
what caused this
i actually slept through
this time
bliss
a pulsing unbearable pain
here we go
a thumping migraine again
i searched for a heartbeat
and listened for a steady pulse
they said if was time
the curtains were forced
shut, i thought i heard your voice
say no, but it was a brief moment
then you let go, there is not a moment
when i don’t think of that last heartbeat
and though they say you took your voice home with you, i feel it pulsing
its way around, i can’t force
a meeting it has to be when the time
is right, but it’s getting later i’m almost out of time
i want to have the moment
of reunion where we hug and smile but the forces
have been holding you back for a while, can’t you feel my heartbeat
when it’s standing right near you?
when they took my pulse
i heard several strange voices
i won’t pretend to know these voices
but as time
ticks on my pulse
begins to quicken there are moments
of fear when my heart misses a beat
is that you? are you trying to force
your way through? i know your force
is weak and you’re saving your voice
for a rainy day, but i just came to ask, is your heart still beating ok?
we don’t have much time
there’s not a moment
to waste
give me your hand feel my pulse
tell me it’s not a mistake, a weakening pulse
inside a decaying force
just a moment
was that your voice?
is it time
to put your heartbeat back with mine?
a pulsing moment
like the force of a heartbeat
it’s time to hear your voice again
i’m sorry i left you behind
excuses are not enough
for you, and although i have grown
i have never forgotten our pages, i may have chosen
different stages but i see the shadow i see the ghost
dancing to someone else’s lines and i know it’s time to return
i don’t want to make a big fuss of this return
as a writer i should’ve never left the page behind
but it’s not the first time, i’ve seen ghosts
rise before, the greats before our time they were enough
the must be because they’re the chosen
ones we’re told to study they helped me grow
into the writer i am most days, they helped me grow
my words into stories and return
to sanity when i have chosen
the wrong path to wander, does poetry leave me behind?
no. so why can i not keep going long enough
i dreamt of a ghost
writing beautiful sonnets, but the ghost
wasn’t scary because it was me, growing
into a routine is hard all i can think is am i doing enough?
what if i don’t return
and fall behind
the curve of poetry, it’s my choice i have chosen
to write to imagine to choose
and create paths that don’t exist i wander along lines in a poem like a ghost
drifting trying to not get left behind
i have grown
cold in recent years, but i will always return
to poetry, it holds me, calms me it’s enough
to stop me going back to dangerous days, enough
to be my chosen
love of writing, when i return
it’s like i never left, the ghost
sits in the corner waiting to see if i’ll give up again, but he doesn’t know i’m grown
i’m older now, i fall behind
i can’t say enough how long i’ve wanted to return
i don’t want to get left behind but it’s me that’s chosen
now i’m just a ghost that’s growing
in the background and showing poems to any that will listen, at least that’s what i envision
won’t you please call
i need to know you’re there not just when my eyes are closed
i am worried you’ve fallen
somewhere, you haven’t the power
to climb out you can’t escape
maybe you’ll meet me there
but i won’t be there
for a while, why can’t you just call
i wish i could run and escape
out of this, but the gates are closed
i have no power
in this world or the next, fallen
in pain but risen in hope, fallen
for those up there
with you, the thing about power
is it doesn’t sit on a call
with you at 2am it doesn’t wish your eyes never closed
it doesn’t need to escape
i find my escape
in different ways since you have fallen
your eyes closed
for the final time and then it was morning you weren’t there
i tried to call
but it said there was no power
at all, a dead connection no signal lost power
you needed to escape
you didn’t deserve that pain, so when came the call
you took a bow and left us all, falling
and having no one there
to catch you doesn’t even come close
to describing life without you, i’ll never close
your story, you hold more power
than you know, you may not be there
i might not see you but i know you had your great escape
and when i come to fall
i hope it’s you that takes the call
i stand beside you your eyes are closed
we got the call an hour ago from a higher power
sorry they said she didn’t escape the fall
meloncurls 