turn on the night light

 there are so many things i could say to you. but the words that i come up with most  are,  "i'm sorry." it wasn't my fault, but i take the blame. was there more i could do? more i could say? none of it would have made a difference. we would still be here, apart, forever. you're with me now, in a different way. that's what i hear, what they tell me. those words do not fill the void, the loneliness i feel without your presence here. there is a silence, now. a grey, dull emptiness that nothing fills.  does time fill the hole? will i ever become whole again? or am i left broken, permanently  fragmented, learning to live as a  broken record that still  plays? I feel selfish moving forward,  yet powerful, too.  the power i have to take control, to live.  but to live, to live and breathe while you are dead is a battle  i fight often.  it shouldn't be you. it should never have been you.  your warm hands quickly turned  cold....

 I twist my brain in different directions, an attempt to make sense of the tragedy that befell upon you, upon us. A rope, already twisted and tangled, a feat to straighten it out that you also took onto your shoulders, when they were already bearing the weight of your own world. In a moment, you were gone. Spirited away into another dimension, occupying the space that Mother universe has provided you, us. Though I cannot touch your rough hands and soft hair, many time has come where I feel you surrounding me, embracing me with your warmth as you once did, an inner warmth inexplicable to those who do not experience such separation as we. When I close my eyes at night and my soul begins to wake, I see you. I see your eyes filling me with adoration and power. I hear you, your soft, gentle reassurance that I am well, I am making you proud. I can smell you, morning after cologne pulsating from your neck, radiating from the t-shirt you wore to bed. I can taste you, the savory sweetness o...

Every lotus blooms after its time in the mud. How long can the dark times be before you   Blossom into color? If all you see is brown, How do you know what else is there? To know the height and depth of blues, The richness of purples and mauves, The statements and emotions that Follow reds. In its child-like state, the lotus Knows what its shown. As does she. The little girl that sits in the grass, Staring at the tree that is her Friend. She does not know much, But she knows some. She knows what they tell her to see, Or not to see. The lotus is planted at the bottom of the lake Its roots deep underneath the dark, wet soil. It knows the darkness, where its roots will then Grow. She too, knows the darkness. She though, does not grow within it. The tree friend stares back at her, silent. Its leaves are chattering to her in spurts, Telling her where to put her rocks and moss. The décor of the crevices that she hides her So...