I am the girl that can come off a bit clingy
Often scaring those who cross my path.
My thoughts may seem a bit stringy
Coming off to one like a bloodbath.
I will shoot for the stars
Providing those I love with my support.
Depending who looks you can see the scars
This makes some want to abort.
Giving my all with folks that let her through
As they becoming a part of the life.
There are pieces only few knew
I will occasionally show it all within a rife.
No one can tell me who I am
I do not follow a diagram.

Hi my name is
Nah that’s way too formal.

Hey wassup it’s ya girl
What am I a radio personality?

Hi. I’m LaShae.

Wait. Yeah that
That feels comfortable.

Hi. I’m LaShae.
La like the note
Shae like the butter.
And I’m
. . .
Blank

God says,
I am that I am
But if I said it
Would it be blasphemous?
Even if I am?
Because I am that I am
And
I am Joy.
I am Smile.
Brittany said it was creepy
That I smiled so much
But Brittany didn’t know
I hurt the same ways she did.
She didn’t know my smile
Was as much a resistance
As it was for her to get out of bed some mornings
She didn’t know
I kept my smile because
Tracy loved my smile.
Tracy loved my smile!
She said it was the most genuine smile she’s ever seen
Which is the best compliment
Because her smile
Was the most genuine I’ve ever seen.

I am peace
Except when I am hungry
And I am always hungry
Beware of Junior’s warning
You better feed that gal;
I am gal.
As sister says,
When hungry,
I am Hulk;
I am pitbull.
Ya girl just likes to eat
But when I am fed,
I promise
I will be peace
Like Mable taught me to be
Peace:
Not the absence of violence,
But the presence of Justice.
So if no Justice
No peace.
I am starving
Pitbull for peace
Ready to Hulk smash oppression
See, Mable
Mable was a child
When Newark went up in flames
See
You don’t watch your home go ablaze
And end up staying the same
No
You arm yourself
Yes, with the whole armor of God
Like your mother taught you
But also
With a thicker skin
That none of this heat can penetrate
And with a weapon
She chose a pen
Much mightier than a sword
Her ink writing for peace
Not the absence of violence
But the presence of Justice
Her ink filled with the blood spilled in her streets
And then she would come to teach
All the little children, and yes, even me
That the power is in connections
That is what Mable taught to me.

Barbara taught me to hold my own.
Pete told me Fret Not
But Pray if you feel alone
Latierra and Ricky
Both taught me to wonder
And Serena taught me
That dancing is greater than pain
Ali taught me God will find you
Even if you’re in the dark.
I never met Maurice,
But his love is always in my heart.
Ulysses taught me always learn first
And Davey taught me to dress my best
Even when they do their worst
Ron & Vette taught me to be loud
Lisa and Al taught me love knows no bounds
Dog taught me to keep my friends close
Mo taught me that royalty
Can come from a crack that bloomed a rose
And Holis, God rest his soul,
May not be blood
But taught me what a man ought to be

I know you asked about me
But I am an unfinished story
The moral of my life
Isn’t complete
But I am that I am
And I am pieces of
Every person I ever lost
A puzzle
Amassing to one lone thought:
Love.

2922 days, 417 weeks, 96 months,
the 8 long years it’s taken for me to know you,
was this born of hate?
is that why i find myself as resentful as i am?
i could never be numb to you,
i could never be apathetic to you,
i could never feel nothing for you,

hate or love,
hate or love,
hate or love,
and i can’t understand what’s in between,

there’s a house stoic hill,
woodland lonesome edelweiss,
just as you’d like
to which i arise,
to which you descend,
i dream about when i’m in the snow,

the house lives and breathes when i could feel the grass on my feet,
i heard you sing through a window ajar,
songs of seraphina,
you are the indescribable view of beauty,

as i open the front door to let myself in i kick the glue from my boots that keep me in place,
i step into rot and decay.
i feel the candles extinguish as i walk past,
i hear the weeping angles,
i smell the cankerous taxidermy,
my hands freeze from the arctic bite of the door handle as i let myself open to discover the indescribable,
asphyxiating from my ring you wear on your neck,
bleeding from my bite on your shoulder,
pale deficient from the dying sun,
the discord that drips from the welt of monstrosity,
why won’t god keep it out my head?
vomit inducing horror i would sooner be blind than see
disgusting shape of unknowable inhumanity,
emotion formed action,
building mountains on your skin,
you moan in pain from knowledge of thyself
but was it me who clipped your wings?

GRIEF
By. Kristina Gregson
Grief is a hard feeling to explain.
One does not truly know what to expect, until they are actually going through the pain.
The pain in the pit of your inner being.
The ache in your heart, feels like it could stop beating.
Your whole body aches with pain, leaving one feeling so drained.
Right down to the blood that flows through your veins.
A hurt, an ache, that can only be described as deep deep sorrow.
One that you know you will still have when you wake tomorrow.
The feeling of loss, the wish I would haves,
The wish I could haves, the wish I should haves,
That feeling of so much wasted time, that could have been spent with better rhythm and rhyme.
More smilies, more hugs, more laughter, more love.
More calls, more talks, maybe even a walk,
More dinners together, more special times.
That is what you wish when your loved one has ran out of time.

Dear Grandpa,
It’s been 11 years snice you’ve gone. I can still remember the night being so peaceful, so still, and so cold. I remember the day we laid you to rest. The snowflakes that fell that day were the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. I wanted to be one of the few who go to carry you to your final resting place, but I watched instead as my brother, cousin, brother in law, and a few others carried you instead.

I’ll never forget when my 18th birthday rolled around and I eagerly went to the gas station and bought a can of your grizzly wintergreen chewing tobacco. I took it to you grave and had lunch with you. The sun was shining and I was happy enough even though you weren’t with me anymore.

You were my best friend. The amount of days I skipped school just to hang out with you nearly cost me my graduation. The people at school frowned upon the week I missed when you passed. Said I shouldn’t have been gone that long and that I needed to be there from then on. What was I supposed to say? Grief has no time limit and I wasn’t capable of dragging myself out of bed to go be around people who never understood me. You always did though.

I wonder what you would think of me now. Would you still be proud of me? Would you still be able to sit in silence with me and just watch the tv? Would you still be able to look me in the eyes and tell me everything was going to be ok? You were my safe place in this world and even though it has been 11 years my heart still hurts. I yearn to hear your laugh, see your smile, and feel the warmth of your hugs.

I love and miss you so much, Grandpa.

Dear Tay,

Two disclaimers about this piece before I shoot my shot: actually, three. This is not a letter to Taylor Swift, not a ploy to be your man, and I am not calling you Tay to embarrass you!

So, who am I talking about? Two people, Taylor Rooks and Joy Taylor, both of whom are Black women in sports.

When thinking of these women, I won’t lie, they are very physically attractive and some may claim that this is why they are on TV.

They recently collaborated, co-hosting their podcast called Two Personal. Rooks and Taylor do a great job at their “daily job”(talking about sports) and giving a voice to others to express themselves.

In this joint venture, the duo are unfiltered, authentically highlighting the ups and downs of being a minority, especially in the sports world where being judged for superficial characteristics is the norm.

In the first few episodes, they have discussed topics that are, well… personal.

The episodes have included subjects such as pregnancy.

The theme of each episode is not why I am attracted to it, it’s that my personal takeaway is:

No matter what sport they are covering, the leading story about Tayx2 is not about the work the women do in the sports arena, to me, they portray that being a proud Black woman is what they want people to talk about when the conversation about them starts.

I’ve stated this before: sports was a way for me to hold my emotions in, and yes, you would be pretty hard-pressed to convince me that the final seconds of a game where the 16 seed has a chance to push off the 1 seed from “the dance floor” (March Madness pun) is not more heart-throbbing than when the final rose is given out in the Bachelor series.

But the two can co-exist.

So, thank you Joy and Taylor for showing that talking about the final few seconds of the game does not have to be substituted for talking about the first few seconds of my life. They can be on the same team “dancing” together!

Much Love & Respect,

Jake April

Photo credit: Two Personal Instagram Page

Mikaela Lauren Tick,

March 7th is your birthday. I was planning to post this on the 6th, as it would fit the theme… premature, or just because this is so hard to get through that I wanted to do it early.

Then again, it is the 6th in California, where my sister lives – who is due to give birth on the 9th.

So, who knows, she can be getting contractions as I write this! .

Hello future Weber,

For future comparison, please note: the line below details what time this sentence was written:
Sentence was completed at 9:33 pm 3.6.24 (PST)

I will see you soon!

Love,

Uncle Jakey💜

Anyway, back to the premature thing.

MLT YOU💜 ME because I was born prematurely at 1lbs 13 oz, giving me cerebral palsy – It feels really weird to be talking about myself in YOUR bday card, CONVENIENTLY weird!

Your favorite thing to do was to ASK me how I was doing and there to share all the moments with me🥲

Alright, let us get back to MYSELF🤔 I think that would make everyone happy😂

In all seriousness, you ARE at your HAPPIEST when the attention is on others. I’ll take it and run!

Our relationship iS STILL as close as ever!

I may not be able to physically hug you, but I know YOU ARE STILL HERE because I see the signs:

Whether it’s with family or things that I do, I do NOT doubt that you did not have anything to do with Lexi, finding a Jeffrey, Ryan finding a Pamela (I’m a little upset with that one because there is only one Pamela Tick, but that’s ok, Pamela’s maiden name is Katz (like Nanny Sheila’s)!

Me:
The Unsealed with LAUREN, my psychologist —who has a disability, and lost a cousin, my best friend, Mack, who I met at a special Olympics event!

In these ways, YOU ARE IMPACTING EVERYONE, ESPECIALLY ME, SHOWING ME, that love can be experienced by ANYONE, ANYWHERE, disability or not!

I would say, until we see each other next time, but I see you EVERYDAY!

Until I can give you a PHYSICAL HUG, sending all of them up into HEAVEN! That and a Black & White Cookie for Papa Donald!

I hated my dad’s classes. He would take out his “Black Tapes”, his Black Law books, and his printed-out thick packets of information from whatever minister or professor he liked then and turn on his computer. It was only occasionally, but the topics of our history always left me feeling uneasy. As I’ve grown, I realized it wasn’t his fault the topics were oppressive to deal with, but I am fortunate he tried to prepare me for the outside world I was entering.

He is good at that.

I was homeschooled and in one of our many classes, I remember he made my brother and I draw a circle on the page in front of us and write these words.

“The space inside this circle represents my realm of knowledge. All that I think I know about whatever I think know is depicted right here within this circle! I must keep in mind that there is more to know than what is within the circumference of my awareness.”

I admired his way of storing and sharing information. His eyes lit up when he had the chance to but other times, he just kept his head in a book or focused on the new installment of monitors on his desk; only to interact again when his friends were around. The people who seemed to matter most.

What he does to me, I do to him. Even though in the deepest parts of our hearts all we want to do is hug each other. We choose to dance around it. We hurt each other, but we do it with love. I know it makes no sense, yet it’s true. I say nothing to protect us and he tells me nothing to keep my image of him from being damaged forever.

Everything he taught me I absorbed. I stood on a podium and to 300 people. I told them that quote he told me. I made them make a circle with their hands and recite these words, again.

“The space inside this circle represents my realm of knowledge. All that I think I know about whatever I think know is depicted right here within this circle! I must keep in mind that there is more to know than what is within the circumference of my awareness.”

I saw him watch me and I could feel how proud he was without having to look. There are moments when I love him with my whole heart and there are moments when I can’t because it hurts. But I always listen to him, just like I know he listens to me.

I love you in the way rain always escapes the forecast. It surprises me how much I always forget my umbrella. I love you and it’s hard because it’s hard to love myself sometimes.

We talk and clash because we both want to be right and since he can’t respond I will part with a piece of his song:

A baby boy, amazing grace. The 20th of July, a special day. A father’s smile and mother’s tear. Through that special reunion, I appear. So full of life and so many dreams. Raised in the ghetto the eldest of three.

This sounds like me:

A baby girl, amazing grace. The 25th of July, a special day. A father’s smile and mother’s tear. Through that special reunion, I appear. So full of life and so many dreams. Raised in the ghetto the youngest of three.

And this part sounds like us:

Plans were made to visit Grandma and them. But underneath pops’ wings is where you’ll find me. Right before bed was the best of times. I swear moms can read a book and make it come to life. But maybe life pressure got to Mom and Dad. Made them change directions from the ones they had. Buckets of tears running down my face as I watch in pain my hero’s separating.

But with me and you, there are no separations.

I pray God send you back to me
I loved you before I knew you
I still love you
Stink-stink
My boo boo
I will always love you
You would have been 7 years old
Some friends tell me Happy mothers day
I smile to cover up the pain that’s inside of me
It’s hard for me to open up to explain to others what happened
I wish I knew what you would have looked like
Still wonder if you were going to be a baby boy “Legend”
Or a “Diamond” princess
I wish I knew your favorite toy
Your favorite cartoon
favorite food
favorite fruit
favorite veggie
favorite ice cream
favorite hobby
favorite color
favorite book
I know uncle Jimmy would have been your favorite uncle
Sherice & Klanice your favorite twin aunties
All I wanted was the best for you
Lead you in the right direction
I wanted you to have a father
That knew the definition of being a father
And act on it
I was so happy when I confirmed I was due 3/30/2017
But I was scared too
So I sat down and thought everything through
I rather have a child by a real man with father experience
Even with no father experience but is ready and willing to sacrifice
And do everything he can to make sure his child is well taken care of
And I was guaranteed to have a real man that had my back one hundred percent
Then I would have never had any doubts
I still look at my ultrasound picture
My body freezes up looking at my seed I was carrying
Small thing you
Sometimes as I sit and write
But yet my kid not hugging or kissing me
Or saying, “mommy I love you”
I feel so empty inside
The sorrow is so heavy
So deep
I pray God
Bring me back my princess or prince
Beautiful
Handsome
Healthy and all.

My little angel 😇 💛

Pure determination and new promises packed along with
her black t-shirt that boldly said, “Laugh More, Bitch Less.”
She was grit, she was fierce.
She wasn’t afraid to travel in an RV with her new boyfriend,
landing in Montana mountains as a young black beautiful woman -hiking on flat trails where chokecherries partied near creeks , dealing with strong winds that chapped her cheeks, and witnessing how the snow packed and spread over the land, emphasizing the mountain tops.
She was cascading to her new dreams, her first brave trip out of the family nest.
she shimmered, she shined.
if you were lucky enough to see her smile – unforgettable like Natalee and Nat King Cole singing.
that is why WHEN she went missing –
no cellphone life, no social media snapchats, we knew something was wrong .
So, us, her siblings/besties put on the song Fugees –“ Gonna Find You”
We went.

Missing women.
Missing men.
Missing kids.
MISSING YOU.
WE FOUND YOU.
MURDERED.

Pure determination, pure promises.
Shimmer and Shine.

My dear,
My beautiful one.
Oh, how I wish to feel your touch again.
To hear your sigh as you pass through the door.
To look, just once more, into your crystal eyes.
Oh, how I wish that I didn’t have to wish.

December 2, 2012. I remember this day all too well, and December 3, 2012, which is strange because I don’t remember most of my life. These two days however, are clear, vivid, like watching a movie in IMAX. A movie that haunts me to this very day.

Let’s start with December 2. Abby and I were at Granny’s. It was a Sunday afternoon, the phone rang. It was you. Mama was just arriving at Granny’s to pick us up and take us back home with her. I remember Granny asking if I wanted to talk to you, I did not. I was handed the phone, but I had nothing to say to you. I was hurt, angry, and sad. I told you I was mad at you. Mad because you left once again to go raise a child who wasn’t even your own. You left me. You left us. You said you’d be coming home for Christmas, I was happy about that, excited even. I have always been a Daddy’s girl, all I wanted was my Daddy home. Since I didn’t want to talk to you, you asked to talk to Mama. I walked the phone out to her and let y’all talk. I remember Mama smiling and laughing while speaking with you. I later found out you had asked her to marry you again. She loved you, and truthfully now looking back, she would have married you again in a heartbeat. After y’all got off the phone, Abby and I loaded up in the car with Mama and headed home. The entire ride home I was still mad, but also very excited because in a few short weeks I’d get to see you again. So I thought anyway.

December 3, 2012. Monday morning, I was awoken with my phone being taken away. I had no idea what I had done wrong for my phone to be taken, I was very confused. Mama looked like she had been crying all night. Her eyes were swollen and red. She couldn’t tell me why she took my phone from me, so being the teenager that I was, of course I was irritated. I asked her what was wrong, she said she had a toothache all night and didn’t get any sleep. I got ready for school like it was a normal day. I remember I was wearing hot pink pants, a black shirt, and black boots. We left home, the same time as usual, like we were headed to school. I would have never guessed the horrors that awaited us. We stopped at Nana’s, this was unusual, especially since we were going to be late for school at this point. I remember being so agitated because not only do I not have my phone, now I’m going to be late for school. After Nana’s, we stopped at Granny’s. Immediately I knew something was wrong. Aunt Sam’s car was in the driveway, she lived in Kentucky at this time so why was she there? Granny was sitting on the porch in her pajamas, housecoat, and slippers. We got out of the car, and Granny’s face looked just like Mama’s. Eyes red and swollen like she’d been crying all night. Now I am aware this is not another toothache. It was never a toothache.

Granny tells us to go in and sit on her bed. Abby and I do as were told, we sit on the end of her bed. Granny then proceeds to kneel down in front of us, touching the both of us with her hands, and says, “Your Daddy was in an accident, and he didn’t make it.” I finally understand why my phone was taken, why everyone’s eyes were red and swollen, why everything that morning was a bit off. My world just went black. My heart shattered. Everything inside me died that day. That is the first time I ever had thoughts of suicide. Fourteen years old, and my Daddy had died. I didn’t even get to tell him goodbye. He died thinking that I hated him. I did not get to tell him I loved him, I missed him, I just wanted him to come home. I refused to speak to him when I had the chance just hours before he departed from this world. He died not knowing how much he meant to me. After we were told of the tragedy that occurred, we had to go home and pack our bags. We were going to Illinois. The bags were packed and we headed back to Granny’s, but now Papa was home too. A sound that I will never forget, is the sound of a grown man I have never seen shed one single tear, screaming, sobbing, and wailing. The sound of him mourning his son was loud enough to hear from outside of the house. To this day I can still hear his cries.

The week following your death is a blur. I remember key moments. I remember Aunt Sam nearly killing us trying to drive to the court house. You were actually going to court to see if the child you left Tennessee for was yours. I remember staying at Silly Willy’s and everyone went to view your body, but we were not allowed to go. I remember them talking about your body being “mangled”. I remember sitting at Silly Willy’s kitchen table trying to help pick songs to play at your funeral. I remember going to pick out your casket. I remember picking out your favorite cologne to spray on you. I remember when we had your visitation in Illinois and we were the first to view you. I remember not being able to walk down the aisle, nearly falling to my knees, sobbing my eyes out. That could not be MY Daddy laying in this casket. No. Not mine. But it was. Thankfully, Aunt Sam was there to pick me up and help me walk. I remember finally leaving, and Mama was the last person to say goodbye to you. We all gave her privacy. I remember going out to eat with everyone afterward and we all took a picture with the signature Billy Gray middle finger.

We brought you back home to Tennessee, in the bed of Papa’s truck. I remember riding behind it and still not believing that you were in that casket, you were really gone. I remember burying you, six feet in the ground. You were home for Christmas that year, just not the way I had expected. I remember everything, and sometimes, I wish I didn’t.

Since you’ve been gone, it does feel like the world has stopped spinning. I died that day and I don’t think I have ever come back to life yet. In fact, everyone died. A piece of every single one of us died on December 2, 2012. Some have handled your death better than others, but nonetheless, not one of us is okay. You do not expect to bury your father as a teenager. A parent does not expect to bury their child. Siblings do not expect to bury their sibling at such a young age. Especially, when you’re completely blindsided by it.

I always sit and wonder about the “what if’s”. What if you were still alive? Would things be as bad as they are? Would I be the way that I am? Would our family be as dysfunctional as it is now? The “what if’s” and “why’s” will eat you alive if you’re not careful. I have had my fair share of being eaten alive by them. I have had to accept that I cannot change what has happened, I cannot go back in time. I just have to believe you’re still here with me, believe that you know I love you and I always have, believe that you are in a better place.

You turned the last page of your book here on earth. I will cherish that book forever, hold it tightly in my soul. This December will mark 11 years, and I miss you more than I could ever put into words. I am still my Daddy’s little girl. I always will be. You were the first man I loved, and the first to break my heart. Unfortunately, grief never goes away, time does not fade the emotions and feelings. However, it is how you deal with the grief that is the key. Truth be told, I have not handled it very well. I have cursed God’s name, lost faith in everything, spiraled into destructive habits. Lots of times just HOPING it would in some sense bring me closer to you. I am now hoping one day my world will begin to spin again, maybe life will form in the parts of me that died. I will keep trying down here on earth, remember your legacy, for I am just as hard headed and stubborn as you. In the meantime, it is what it is. I will take it day by day until we meet again. When that day comes, be prepared for a fight because you left me down here without you, tears, laughter, and most of all an abundance of love. I will never let you go.

Your little girl,

Have you ever had the pleasure of falling in love with someone you’ve never met?

It’s almost as if you have an immediate connection,
Your souls are fused together.
The pull of uncertain, certainty.
You feel everything all at once.
Your soul is content and full.
You’ve become a glutton for the love
It feels so good!
Theres butterflies signifying this spectacular moment in the timeline.

Have you ever had the pleasure of a heartbreak over someone you’ve never met?

They say the worst withdrawal is of a person.
I must say, “I agree.”
It’s almost as if you have lost a real piece of your soul
You have no autonomy over your
heart.
You crave, cry, and hate all within a
minute.
You mourn someone you’ve never even
met.

Have you ever had the pleasure of healing after a heartbreak over someone you’ve you’ve never met?

It’s almost as if you are whole again.
You carefully put each piece of your
shattered heart together
Hand gluing, welding, stitching,
and crafting it into your newest
artistry.
Looking at your newest master piece
You’re feel of all of the happy, joyful
memories you chose to keep
You’re reminded of the pain and
mourning that led to
You, whole,new & ready to love.

In the cosmic dance of chance and fate,
A story unfolds, a love so great.
A Spectrum of colors, a call in the night,
Where fate intervened, two worlds took flight.

In the realm of pixels and data streams,
A Spectrum call center, where reality gleams.
As a troubleshooter, I entered the scene,
Little did I know, fate was foreseen.

In the sunshine state, where palm trees sway,
Florida’s warmth met Ohio’s gray.
A sweet voice on my line,
A connection so divine.

Fate had more in its grand design.
Little did I know, she’d soon be mine,
She insisted on more, a number to exchange,
Feeding into destiny’s range.

Two and a half years, our connection grew,
Before I gave into her irresistible pursuit.
A realization of self-discovery, coming to light,
As I embraced the truth of my own unique sight.

In the closet’s shadow, I found my way,
Guided by fate’s hand, in the light of day.
Coming out, my thoughts unfurled,
She stood by my side, as I reshaped my world.

Long-distance whispers across state lines,
A love so deep, like vintage wines.
Florida to Ohio, miles and miles apart,
Yet, she captured my soul and entered my heart.

Through video calls and messages, love took its place,
A connection so strong, no distance can erase.
Her laughter echoed through a virtual space,
Serenading me in a symphony of love and unspoken grace.

In her, I found a safe harbor, a haven of peace,
Long-distance love, a sweet release.
She, a lighthouse, guiding me through,
In the vast ocean of love, our connection grew.

Miles may stretch, but love knows no bounds,
With the help of fate, our story resounds.
A love that bridges the space and time,
A testament to fate, beautifully sublime.

Here’s to the place where it all began,
Our fate smiled, as it crafted our unique plan.
In the Spectrum of love, we found our place,
A love story written by destiny’s grace.

My heart is broke I’m begining to sulk
My tears are for fears that you might not be back do you have to go away for this long? I don’t think Im strong for lack of a better word, maybe I’m being absurd
First time I saw you I knew you were the one.
Starring in to each others eyes our lips touched and that was it, I was hit with cupid’s arrow.
Now years later a lie was created
doubted thoughts loom and you assume.
My heart drops what did I do I never knew you felt like this I must’ve missed.
I want to give you a kiss and be in bliss again with you, this what I really want to do
I miss you

I dedicate this poem to Gary and Morgan, loving partners for over 40 beautiful years. This month Gary passed away after a year long struggle with cancer, days before Morgan’s birthday and their anniversary. During his final moments, Gary only had the strength to whisper priceless words of encouragement and love to Morgan. This is a poem of hope that we will all meet again, someday, somewhere beyond this life. But in the meantime, we’ll find each other in…

WHISPERS

You’ll come to me in whispers

And you’ll visit me in dreams

I’ll awaken from your kisses

Softly lit by radiant beams

In the echos of my life

I will catch your sweetest voice

I will hear our love’s pure song

And my heart will then rejoice

I will strain my tired ear

For each whisper that you gift

As I listen most intently

In our memories I will drift

And one day your gentle whispers

Will be louder and quite clear

We’ll be standing face to face

And our love song all will hear

Within the depths of my souls chambers
Resides a tale cloaked and concealed by mist.
A story of shadows, of darkness
Where whispers of despair seep.

The past a tempestuous journey endured,
Through valleys veiled in haze.
Whispers of melancholy a melody,
Played beneath the moons gaze.

Why withhold this tale from those I cherish?
The ache, the anguish heavy to bear.
To shield them from burdens I chose to hide
Preserving their hearts with love and care.

For spoken words cannot be unheard
Revealing pain and stirring wounds.
To spare their hearts untouched by despair
Silence became my tender safeguard.

Not, out of shame or deceitful embrace
As loves shield, protective grace.
I treasure their laughter and unrestrained joy
A sanctuary where suffering remains unnamed.

So within the refuge of my hearts retreat
Rests a truth, a story.
Through loves rhythm and unspoken pact
Their serenity is preserved entirely.So I conceal this chapter, this history,
Deep within the chambers of my soul it silently endures.
Because love, an treasured shade
Warrants a canvas that’s untainted and sincere.

Dear Unsealers,

Today I held the hand of a dying friend. We looked into each other’s eyes and I said the only thing I could say at that moment…”I love you”. Too weak to speak, he closed his eyes, puckered his tired lips, and blew me a kiss. I caught it and will carry it with me for the rest of my life.