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June 12, 2003

Some days, the trees were burning
oranges, reds, and yellows against
the bluest sky littered with puffs
of white clouds that floated free
way beyond my reach.
My face looked up into a world
I so wanted to love.
My eyes expected so much from
the world around me.
Maybe the dust had settled again
on a day I'd rather forget.
Maybe my head rattled needlessly
with my own invented rhythm.
I had just the sky to hold me
in the rapture of existence
for just that glimpse.
I turned my face upwards from
the world I so hated.
My head spun as I looked around
and pretended to love.
"I hear you, sweet, succulent, dreaming,
and I hear you laughing like the rain,"
he said.
I think I really must have laughed.
I think I really must have been happy.
The days faded gray and rainy,
as they always seemed they must.
In a churchyard, I found stones
who said, "You will lay here one day."
It was one truth of many.
My eyes closed to the world of death
that surrounded me.
My mind shut down against the pain
to know where life led me.
The darkness was a good friend to me
for a long time, in lonely abandon.
I held onto love that seemed impossible
as I curled against the night
and dreamed life had meaning.
I looked up at starlight and moonlight
that now offered love.
I kept my eyes turned up to the sky
to believe in love.
"Now my words come harsh, grating, hating
for the things we did not do,"
he said.
I still listen like my life is in his hands.
I still listen like he will make me happy.