Where now, my son?
Have they laid you
amongst the dead?
Or are you seeing
another kind of being?

I try to remember
our last conversation,
the words exchanged,
but they are elusive
like exhaled breath
in a winter's sky.

I look for you
as I turn my head,
the familiar places,
the passage way,
the hall,
the sitting room,
the chair
by the window
most of all,

but no matter
how hard I stare,
you're not there,
least not
that I can see,
although despite
my not seeing,
you may well be.

We couldn't find
your Jimi Hendrix
tee shirt,
the one
you used to wear,
despite us looking
everywhere.

Maybe that's the one
you wore that final night,
the one they cut away
to restart
your flat lined heart?

My loves have bought me
another Jimi Hendrix
tee shirt
to remember you
and keep you
close and near.

That was good of them;
wasn't it my dear?

Hold me close As I rest
my head on
your chest
falling asleep
While listening
to the beating rhythm
of your heart
And
Never let me
go

When you see her cry
     you get a rag,
a gentle delicate cloth.
                                        Lovingly grasp her hand
                                               and dab its tip;
                                       dry each tear as they come.
                                                           ­                               And ask each drop
                                                            ­                                   why it'd leave
                                                           ­                               such beautiful eyes.

  If she wishes
to be in the sky,
  tell her to go.
                              Take the sun ransom,
                              and replace its shining
                                    with her own.
                                                            ­          So you can see her every morning
                                                         ­                          and wish for her
                                                                ­                  return each night.

When you see her scars
  both visible and non-
    touch each gently.
                                             And remind her
                                       that each and every hurt
                                            she has survived,
                                                       ­                                 has only made her
                                                                ­                   that much more unique;
                                                         ­                              that much stronger.

  Show her that she
  is a special person
and is worthy of love.
                                     That she deserves the love
                                            she fears to give...
                                            show her so that
                                                            ­                     one day after you're gone
                                                            ­                      she can find the strength
                                                                ­                    to go on without you.

    Tell her that while
she might not be a goddess
far above worldly desires,
                                          that she is amazing,
                                         for just being herself
                                    for being that beautiful girl
                                                            ­                   who thinks herself damaged
                                                         ­                         when in truth she's just
                                                            ­                    a different kind of beautiful.

   And finally, love her.
  Like a boy loves a girl
Till she finally remembers
                                            that that's what she is:
                                          not a scar, not a goddess,
                                             not a star. But a girl.
                                                           ­                         That deserves to be loved.

Constant changing
            Always rearranging
                                      Is what
                                              I

                                                   call
                                                       my
                                                          
                                                            Life

I do not want to just go through the motions in life
I want to strive not just survive
I want to thrive
I want to live with devotion not just chase a careless notion
I need to take five and smell the flowers along the way
I need to stop and see what is clearly ahead of me
I need to appreciate all the beauty that can be found, and peace will flow abundantly

No matter whoever you are nor whatever you have done.
No matter where you may live nor what is your work title.
Nor who your parents are , none of this matters at all.
Christ loves you so very much, and he wants you to love him.
He wants to have a personal relationship with you as well.
He has created you for a very special reason to have a relationship with.
He created h3ll for the fallen angels not people, but there shall be people there.
He wants everyone whom fallen to repent and become his people.
He loves us all so very much, I love you all very much as well.
There is always hope for people until they pass away in death.

I wake up in the middle of the night
Cold sweat covering my body

I stay too long in the shower
Because I cry

I try too hard to fit in and to be liked
Because I wouldn't want to sit alone during lunch

I try to be funny
So that people will notice me

I try to be smart
So my parents will be proud of me

I try to be sensible
So my siblings will look up to me

I try not to be so sad
So I don't feel the urge to pick on my skin
So I don't cut open my skin
So I don't see blood coming out of me

But I end up giving in anyways
Because I'm human

I end up being a shame
**Because I'm human

zipping myself into his hoodie / hoping it'd be the equivalent to being / inside his skin