a rude awakening

today we arose from our slumber, faster than the sun ever could.

Grief stood in the corner of my bedroom and wrote me a note.

tonight, he tucked the folded paper under my pillow

forcefully,

angrily.

it was almost like he yelled for me to wake up, to rise and remember the things I’d much rather forget.

Many would consider him to be a wake up call,

some kind of romantic being that begged for the sight of my open eyes.

He,

whom after awhile,

missed the laugh I had grown accustom to letting out,

and never forgot the different words I’d learn to trip over.

and maybe this was romantic

it was some kind of love story

I guess you could say.

A love story where he pleaded for my living

A love story where no matter how many times he tried to wake me up,

I’d shush him,

wish for his disappearance,

and still,

He would try again the next day.

a beating heart was enough for him though,

it was a message from me to him, saying thank you

not for the admiration

not for the begging

not for the constant remembrance of the people I miss

not for the loving

not for the letters under my pillow

but for catching me in a temporary sleep

that he didn’t want to last forever, and teaching me how to wake

when that is the last thing I had wished to do.

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a legacy

A mold of your heart has been made.

Produced over and over again

Gifted to newborns

And people across the world

who once lost themselves

who have become tired of living

and once again,

without your own knowledge

You have saved someone’s life.

You gave someone a reason to live.

You gifted people with purpose and you shaped them into a figure of pure love

A prized possession is what your heart became.

Passed down throughout a family

because it was just that great.

Nobody had to question the tradition

because they were all impatiently waiting for it.

To receive that again would be

the most generous gift,

the kind of gift that keeps on

giving no matter what the condition.

Perhaps someday the world will find a way to set it on my doorstep

put it into a box

wrap it in a little bow,

and send it off to me.

Hand one to my kids

guide them,

help them grow into a beautiful soul

like some kind of footwear.

Ship one off to my future lover

And make his heart even more loving than my own.

For he now holds the most genuine heart

I have ever known.

The Sun Looked Like You Today

for a split second, tears started to roll down my cheek.

among the light, I thought I saw you standing in a field,

across from my bus,

waving at me.

I never liked this place, but for one second, that field is where I wanted to be for the rest of my life.

When I say“the sun looked like you today”

I don’t mean that it looked beautiful.

I mean that even though the clouds around it were full, nothing was stopping the sun from glowing,

it was struggling,

it was striving,

but there it was

fighting to be noticed,

and that is just how you lived.

The clouds were up there,

right beside the sun,

childishly playing a game of hide and seek. For a moment, the sun would shine it’s light on me,

but it would leave just as quick.

By now I would like to think you are somewhere else on this earth,

making someone a coffee,

painting some really bad art,

or maybe someone got just lucky enough where they have grown into a carbon copy of you.

Meeting someone like you again,

would be the most generous gift,

and maybe some day the world can hand it to me again.