There was a time when

I held your hand. You couldn't

squeeze back, though I knew

you wanted to. You couldn't speak,

but the words "I love you" sprang

from your eyes. We didn't think

you'd move on so fast.

They told us you had months, but

they were wrong. Now my hand sits empty,

and the smile on your face is gone.

Your voice still echoes through

my mind, as if you're sitting in front

of me again. I wonder if it'll ever get easier,

but then I remember that life moves on.

Even when I don't want it to.

You’re right.

I’m doing it wrong.

I should fix it

I have always done it wrong, and

I should fix it, but

I will never stop doing it wrong.

I just want to give up,

Give in,

And stop trying to fix it and

let myself keep being wrong.

Because

fixing it is an endless task.

An insurmountable task.

And for that

I am sorry.

But

I didn’t ask

To be here.

I didn’t ask

To take up this space.

Your space.

And all I can think-

What I can’t help but know-

Is that

I wouldn’t be able to do it wrong

If

I wasn’t Here in the first place.

I'm going to miss you, dear friend. Your struggles are over, and you're resting in the arms of the Father.

You gave me strength as I watched you fight a good fight. You always had a smile on your face even when I knew you were in pain. The doctors walked away from you many many times, but God said, "Not Yet." He gave you the strength to overcome time and time again.

You have won many battles in your life and the victory is now yours. You can now say once again, "I'm doing something y'all haven't done; I'm resting in the arms of the Father."

"Oh, don't be jealous, your day will come and you will get to where I am. So until then live your best life, run your best race, finish your course, and then you can join me on the other side.”

Thank you dear friend for sharing this space, you have taught me well. You've taught me things to do and things not to do. You reminded me time after time that it is our choice and those choices come with consequences.

You've taught me to love, you've taught me to share, you've taught me to never give up. You said, "Remember, God has the final say. Man is not in control, but it is God. I'm not leaving here until God gets ready for me and when He's ready; there is nothing anyone can do."

So, my friend, you left us with so much to remember you by and we will never forget. You will always be a presence in our lives. We loved you then and we love you now. We'll see you again dear friend when it's our turn to be in the arms of the Father.

@glitterpoet

Lying in bed that afternoon

Had me pondering many things

Will I finish college right, or

Sail away on fleeting wings?

When at that moment something

New and strange occurred to me.

Was it good? Was it bad?

I wish I could unsee.

The memory of a broken girl

Who cried at the hands of a monster.

She tried to save her younger self,

But was afraid that he'd abuse her.

The memory of a young mother

Dreading what she had seen.

Knowing that something must be

Done to this boy of fifteen.

The memory of a father's heart

Being ripped at it's core.

He had done all he could to

Help and he could take no more.

The memory of an outraged grandmother

As her grandson had done wrong.

But it wasn't the victim's who

Shared her martyr's song.

The reality of a broken child

Who was only three years old.

She never understood what had

Happened to make her feel so cold.

She didn't know why big sister would

Cry, when the night turned dark.

She wanted desperately to help

But did not know how to embark.

She didn't know why mom was angry

And always said she was sorry.

Mom never did any wrong, and

Yet she constantly would worry.

She didn't know why dad became

Silent and no longer said a word.

Was it her fault he was like this?

Whatever, it really hurt.

She didn't know why her grandma

Constantly stole her away,

To give her and the boy some time

To bond and to play.

She didn't know why brother would

Play in such an awful manner.

She never liked these terrible games,

But he never cared about her.

All at once, these thoughts flooded

Her mind, like a broken dam.

The once innocent girl, was now

no longer "happy as a clam".

No one keep the story from her.

She had known the story already.

But now to her it was no longer

A story, but a reality.

Her fury was sparked and with

The energy she had she yelled,

For the sister who tried, but

Was pulled through this wicked hell.

For the mom who stopped what

Could've been a bigger problem.

For the dad who stopped talking

And became nothing but solemn.

For the grandmother who hated

Her as a reminder of his failure.

And for him, who decided his wants

Were worth more than his behavior.

Found my tears in the middle of a drought

Found my peace in the dark

Because we don’t always need to see what’s right in front of us

Found my temporary pleasure

Because my pain is just in remission

Stopped eating other peoples problems

And talking a lot of shit

I found my bliss at the top of my pen

Tips of my fingers

Ending the never beginning story

Side note lol I’m literally sitting on a rock and writing this. Water is so peaceful.

Mom I'm sad again but you can't hear me

I'm sitting on my bed crying about a friend

About many friends that wished they were dead

Sitting there wishing I could take it away

You told me I couldn't save everyone

And I still think about it to this day

Mom I'm sad again but you can't hear me

Remember when my friend died? That was the most shocking thing that happened to me in that moment of my life

And I was plummeted into a depression I didn't know existed inside me

I know you did the best you could

But why did you have to say I needed to get over it

Mom I'm sad again but you can't hear me

It's like when my old boyfriend broke up with me because I was sad

So I was sad like any normal teen would be

And you asked if you should get me help

But your tone was excited and angry

The way you sounded most of my life

Mom I'm sad again but you can't hear me

I'm not sure I want you to hear me

But I hear about the comfort people get from their mothers

And wonder why it was so hard for me to feel that

Mom I'm sad again but you can't hear me

Your mom just died and I can't be as sad as you want me to be

But I was pretty torn up inside

Why was that the only time you decided to point out my sadness?

As if my sadness was only convenient when you wanted it to be

At the worst possible time

When it was too late

Mom I'm sad again but you can't hear me

And you'll never really hear me

I guess that's just the way it is

beauty is a story usually told by the body

let my imperfections be the empty pages

your words the pen that which writes my story

let the intertwined stretch marks be the map to my purity

and your fingertips those that which travel the winding roads

i want you to explore my every feature find my deepest darkest secrets

and trace the scars that they left behind

follow me into the unexplored

inadvertently step off the edge

let me fall in to your line of sight

catch a glimpse of all my flaws

write me a thousand words

indite every thought you have

compile every second guess

put me in a picture frame above your bed

be careful in the misshapen and the disfigured

take me there, all the way

disrupt the sinlessness

tell me the story of my beauty

I'm sorry

but your phone call

didn't do it for me

I ran out of apologies

by the time the nurses

told me to stop crying

and when I walked

out of the

hospital and my sister

didn't answer my texts

in the blazing sun

not seen behind

hospital walls

it still wasn't as painful

as the night

I lurked on social media

and found my ex's

new girlfriend

and that didn't really

do it for me either

writhing on a mattress

that had belonged to my sister

I screamed into a pillow

and died for the second time

The sighing, old man,

Strode towards the Brit woods,

sighing deeply,

for the loss and sacrifices,

he beared,

the thorny bush searing his skin,

the cold, old man thought carelessly,

but the man was bold,

and brave as lion,

though he feared,

he feared the loss of...

his wife, who passed away-

or should i say,

Sacrificed herself for the family,

but the first days were bright,

with his wife and children three,

and his horse and a cat wee,

though he lost the two sons,

with the loss of their village,

and earthquakes many,

though the horse and a son lived,

grieving his pain,

he told son- Young man you,

will you do,

a favor for me,

a old, old man with a little...

to lose,

begs you to,

go to your mothers grave,

and please her with four sheep,

who are in plight,

so please i beg you-

the young man listened and smiled,

sure he said,

and went and fed the sheep,

who were in plight,

feeding with love and,

affection he gave, and off

to his mothers grave,

and with himself, pleased,

he went to the Brit woods,

with a happy mind,

to meet his dad, and a old, old man

But alas, the man had gone,

smiling in his armchair,

Filled with grief, the young man cried,

for the whole day long,

but the old man,

with absolutely no sight,

had passed away,

with the sad atmosphere,

The young, lad buried him near,

the old, old sighing man.

They said: “Don’t do that.”

I didn’t

They said: “You’re so selfish”

I tried to think of others

They said, “You aren’t doing enough”

I work harder

They said: “You’re so arrogant”

I stopped asking questions

They said: “Do you want them to take you away”

No I really didn’t

They said: “You’re so lucky”

I didn’t feel it

They said, “These are your best years”

I dread the future

They said: “Have fun be a child”

I couldn’t

They said: “You’re so perfect”

I tried even harder to do everything