Tag Archives: Death

Open Eyes, Closed

01 Saturday Oct 2016

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​Are my eyes opening
Or are they closing
Am I waking up
Or slipping
    into a nightmare
Both feel real
Both feel fake
I can’t tell anymore
This reality
This nightmare
They both
    taste the same

Wake me up
Let me dream
Fix me
Break me
Tell me I’m ok
Scream at me
    that I’m insane

Let me breathe
Suffocate me
Some how I think
I won’t notice
Any difference
    in between

If my eyes are open
When will they close
And if they’re closed
Will they ever
    open up again 

Cracked and Broken

19 Tuesday Jan 2016

Posted by in Musings

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Decades ago my grandfather bought me a plot in the graveyard among with the rest of the family. It was always so surreal to see my name on a tombstone with my birth date and a dash. It was as if it were just counting down the days.

My sister went to visit my father and grandparents tomb last week and said there was a large crack in my tombstone. None of the other ones near… Just mine.

She said she was going to get it repaired, I told her not to worry. She paused… Then asked why. With my mask on tight I smiled through Skype and said it isn’t worth the money, it’s OK.

Inside my mask, in the thing that dwells inside, I simply thought why not let my sigil in death match my soul in life. Cracked and broken.

Parchment Skin

16 Monday Mar 2015

Posted by in Poetry

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I remember
In the hospital
Those last few days
Her skin
Almost translucent
Like wax paper
I was terrified
My touch
Would hurt her
That her skin
Would pull away
But it didn’t
In some way
It was
The only thing left
She could feel
And so I sat
My hand
On her parchment skin
As her light
Slowly faded
I had disappointed
Her in life
But I would comfort
Her in death

Funerals

28 Saturday Feb 2015

Posted by in Poetry

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In the last 5 years
I’ve been to 5 funerals
So many people laid to rest
Today in the funeral
As she buried her son
I couldn’t help wonder
Who I was really there for
Him to say goodbye
Her to offer needed support
Or me…
    to remind myself
That contrary to how I feel
I am still alive
As much as I’d like to think
It was one of the first two
I’m sure the truth
Is somewhere in between
And I’m ashamed of myself
For making any part of it
No matter how small
About me
But I guess if we were all
To be so very honest
That’s what funerals
Are really about aren’t they
For us to grieve
For us to remember
For us to start
      to somehow heal