may pt. 2
like winter and clouds and the tears we shed
all things must come to an end
and with a heavy heart i watched you go
so far away from what we know
the flowers bloom and wreck our room
our tiny haven created in pen
and we may never swing again
another connection lost to time
another victim on the line
may you save our hearts from the break of dawn
save the moon for those who’ve gone
may.
i wish that may may come again
and come what may in may
for nights of endless starry skies
and summer winds await
may all the roofs in all the world
become our stomping ground
and swinging on the edge of day
become our safe and sound
may words of kind and caring souls
walk hand in hand with dreams
and bless the baited breath of summer
floating in along the breeze
space
you had galaxies in your fingertips
and you set the skies ablaze
and light moved from within you
the cosmos marvelled at your gaze
and you were full of stars and other bright things
and everything that i was not
and you had always been that way
full of the things that I forgot
moondust powdered your ethereal voice
and crystals glazed your eyes
and cotton candy clouds
sugar coated all your lies
yours
you got a little careless
as the night bled out like watercolor
and painted me with the same blacks and blues
as the colors that enveloped us
my neck now screamed with blurred marks
of your lips and teeth and tongue
my collarbone had braved the storm
with its own galaxies to explore
so now the whole world knows
just how much i am yours
the last time
The last time I saw Jeane was fifteen years ago. Every time I drive by our old neighborhood, I am reminded of what happened to us. Why couldn’t I fix it. Why couldn’t I be there for her when she needed me most. She had no one in this world to depend on except for me and Tom.
Her parents died when she was 16, and I guess that left her with more scars than she cared to show. She did her best to provide for me, but there was only so much she could do. I was handed over to my adopted mom at 8. Tamara and John are lovely people, but I will never forget the day that they took me from Jeane. I did not want to leave her. She had never done anything but good for me. She only wanted me to do my best. She was only doing her best, too. They showed up at our house, the men in the black suits. Jeane knew that this was it. She told me to go and get my stuff and my books, and to make sure that I had everything that I wanted to take with me. She told me that I was going away, and she would be sure to visit me every now and then. I asked her where I was going, but she told me she loved me and kissed me and gave me to the men. In that moment, I remember seeing her more heartbroken than I had ever seen her before. I remember her crying. I had never seen her cry before. Even when Tom hit her, she never cried. I screamed, and reached out for her, and the men ripped me away.
Every now and then, she would visit, but only for a moment, before she had to leave, each time more heartbroken than the last. It must have been a few years before she gave up. Her scars had fully resurfaced, and covered her whole body. By the time she had swallowed all of the pills, her strings had all broke. Tom always said he loved her. But I guess he found the bottle more attractive. I miss you, Mom.
a eulogy from the foster kid