"Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never one beautiful, it was just red." - Kait Rokowski

I wanna make poetry out of the way the boy who was my first grade best friend

The boat reeked of fish.

Today I pulled
my grandmother’s body
from the mouth of the river,
unpeeled milkflowers and seawater
from her hair, and knelt over her
the way we bend over our own reflections:
to drink.
Nainai, ni ren shi wo me?*

True silence isn't sealed lips
it's unread texts, deleted history
it's a phone that someone never picks up
The line the dead girl's parents still pay for
even though there is no one to answer it.
the principal is adamant on thoughts

i have never loved another in the way i have found myself to love you.
i have loved you the way the sun loves the dandelions
and the way the tides love the moon.
i simply cannot imagine a world where we didn’t save one another.

Even when she was young, Sonya had never been afraid of the supernatural.

Does it end where it all began?
Since the death of my mother
Something inside is broken
from deep deep
within
I feel like I’ve sinned
Thoughts ramble through my head
I feel like I too want to be dead
Yes it’s wrong
it’s not right

On a cold February evening I learned one of life’s biggest lessons: appreciate what you have at present because once it’s taken away from you, all you’ll have left are memories. For me that ‘it’ was my fifteen month old niece, Bano.

I look at your face,
the flowers in the vase,
I never wanted to be in this place,
As I pace the floor,
Searching for the door,
I realize I miss you more,
So I kneel at the cross,
And pray for my loss,
Wondering why you paid the cost . . .

I’m a new york kid. there i was born and raised. outside on the block that’s where i spent most of my days, but now my vision’s in a haze. my mom said, what i’m going through is just a phase, but i know now that’s not the case.

There once was a man named Ed. Ed had a wife and three kids and worked at a very successful job. His life was perfect. But as time went on, his children grew up and went off on their own to form their own families, but soon Ed became a grandfather. And once again, life was perfect.

 It was quiet like it always was. Not dead quiet, you could still hear the waves and the insects. I sat on the beach, my hands clasped around my knees. I had buried the last of them in the cavern, then sealed it shut. Now it was just me.

Silent torture works the best,
As if one’s memories were weights,
Weighing down the trudging steps
Echoing as darkness waits.

It’s hard to understand and agree with this quote, unless you’ve experienced a great loss. My friend, Paige Winters, died in a plane crash and it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with in my entire life.

Her death truly has changed everything.

I wish…
I could run like an Olympian
I could draw without restrictions
I could dance like nobody is watching
I could sing as pretty as a mockingbird
I wish…
I could be a world traveler
I could walk outside with the perfect weather every day

Silence is here again.
No whispering trees
Not even a howl from the wind.
The river no longer laughs.
The sounds of our happiness are gone,
But I will never forget that bright autumn day

It looked a bit like Lila, but it wasn’t Lila. I don’t know why people say that when someone dies they look like they’re sleeping. Her skin was dull grey and colder than ice. Her long body lay limp and heavy on the stainless steel table. Her clothes were dirty and rumpled.

Whenever I' m alone I miss you
Wish I took that chance to kiss you
I feel shattered and alone
like a dog thats lost his bone 
Remembering your laughing eyes
my life is filled with quiet sighs
Seasons may come and seasons may go

They are dangerous and frightening,
Like a strike of lightning.
You have to watch out,
Because they can black you out.
You try to hold back,
Until the police come attack.
Watch out they’re coming,
Just like lightning is stunning.

she walks
head bent against the cold
and the weight of grief
shoving her down

her black hair blows
in the wind around her head
i call out and she turns
her green eyes searching
for the dead that she can’t see