death

  • through diamonds and molasses

    The way grief pours into you,thick and rich like molasses,sealing the loss with sticky solemnity.

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  • Eternal Unrest.

    When death stretches your eyelids,so tight you don’t have time to rewind,to have tea with your demons,to repent and regret and relinquish yourself, they stay rigoured,a forced awakening of your last moments.  Only a life of sin would force your eyes open upon death, as if to say,“watch yourself burn.”   An afterlife of eternal unrest,reserved

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  • After Death

    How strange it is, to watch someone’s face sparkle and dance with life on a Monday, and for it to be gone by Tuesday. How strange it is,for our bodies to decay, to expire,yet leave behind an undeniablepresence if we’re open to it. How strange it is to look into your eyes merely through a

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  • On the Fragility of Life

    I heard the incessant tapping on my window. Not again, I groaned internally. I turned over onto my side and grabbed a pillow to squash over my head in hopes of drowning out the noise. Tap, tap, tap. It wasn’t letting up. I peeked at the clock sitting on my dresser a few feet away.

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