what do you say in a traditional wedding toast?
I’m not a traditionalist
I’m a poet
I’m not too good at structured, sentimental texts
i speak in chopped verses so
here’s my non-traditional, non-structured, sentimental wedding toast
in verse

my memories
flash and fade quickly like lights flicker on and off
i'm toddling around the house right behind you
where are you going?
can i come too?

i'm barefoot in the driveway washing your car
you took pictures, no doubt laughing at the streaks we left on the windows because, shortness

i'm sitting on the bus rifling through your purse like the nosy little kid I am
you're chaperoning one of my school field trips
one of the aids asks if you're my mother
you chuckle and say "nope, i'm her sister"
i roll my eyes because isn't it obvious we're sisters?
okay, it wasn't obvious we're sisters

i'm bouncing down the hallway to your room
stopping suddenly at the sight of packing boxes
college
you're leaving me
"we'll be okay" you said
i believed you even though i could have sworn
i was losing my sister to the big city for good
we wrote letters
we skyped
we emailed
and i called you
so many times
we were okay

fifth grade, you bring a guy home
but not just any guy
i think we all knew this one was different
i saw it in your eyes
i was only 11 but i knew what love looked like

b, you always told me i was the wind beneath your wings
you can't break the bond of sisterhood
you just can't
but maybe the bonds will loosen
i thank you for the memories
they were fantastic and i'm looking forward to seeing what the future has in store for us
i'm thinking
babies would be nice
In time...

so my dear sister,
tell me how married life is
i hope this night was everything you always dreamed of

nick, you've got to be
the happiest guy in the world right now

i'm only 16 but i know what love looks like
it looks like his gaze on her glowing beauty
it looks like a promise of forevers proclaimed in front of loved ones
it looks like my sister
finding her other half
and my brother in law
finding his.

-rgp

do you
have the strength?
they asked me
i looked at my frail arms then at my legs
skinny would be an understatement
i’m
deadly thin
do you
have the strength?
they asked me
i looked at my mind then at my heart
battered, but not destroyed
i
haven’t given up
yet
do you
have the strength?
they asked me
yes
i replied

broken wings
will fly away
just not
immediately
broken wings
are broken for a reason
there was a story
and a struggle
and a person who was done trying
he broke himself
she betrayed herself
to save himself
from her wounds
you can’t fly away
you can’t get hurt
maybe broken wings
are broken for a reason

absence is said to make the heart grow fonder
but when you've been away
you don't grow fonder of the absence
your heart doesn't grow fonder of the absence
so why
do people say that?
my heart hasn't grown fonder of the distance
honestly I thought the gap would close and my heart might heal over the wound
instead, it's just beginning to get pried open and with every letter I write, with every hour that passes that I'm still not asleep
my heart turns a shade darker and
floats a little farther away from my body

My soul is weary yet I still march on
I'm the tearstained pages of my favorite book
I'm the gentle whispers in the morning that remind you
Today you are alive
I'm the calluses on the bottoms of my feet from running on hot pavement and gravel in the summer
I'm the pen that wrote the words that make my heart ache
I'm not done here
The calluses on my feet weren't always there
It used to burn when I walked outside
But nothing felt so good as the mix of sand and concrete beneath my feet so I ran and became stronger
Immune to the heat
I'm battered and worn but the best books are
I will march on
And I will become
Everything I haven't yet

Sometimes it feels like you're walking around on tiptoe as not to disturb the glass beneath your feet
Broken edges, sharp shards of memories and the life that once was
Shoes mask the familiar feel of the ground, confuse your feet, and throw them off path
Barefoot and
Not so free
Hobble around, try to regain your balance whilst staying upright
Don't look down, feel around for the soft areas
A blind man, navigating through a minefield
What are the chances of getting through safely?
When it rains more glass you grab at your threadbare sweatshirt that is trying so hard to protect you
Your innocent, now scarred white flesh glistens against the storm of needles that ***** your skin
At what point do you decide to stop caring?
At what point do you take off the jacket that's not been doing much for you anyways and just give yourself to the battle?
Sacrificial living or
Sacrificial dying
Sacrificial being
At what point do you blow up?
I'm trying to understand this way of walking
But I stomp around on heavy feet
My feet are calloused and sore
I'm barefoot and free
I've blown off my limbs but what's a little blood to stop the war?
My scars have faded
I gave myself to the storm
Yet I'm still breathing
I've not died though I've walked many a mile on
Tiptoe back when I thought it was wise
To walk on shattered glass

I think about death
I do
Not in the gory suicidal way but in the
"one day I will die....hmmm" way
I've thought about my funeral
I don't want anyone to cry
I wasn't THAT great of a person
But as snarky (and sometimes full of it) as I tend to be
I know
The day that I die will be a sad day
I want flower seeds scattered at the base of my headstone and
my ashes scattered deep in the mountains because I loved my mountains more than anything else Nature had to offer
My mother always said if He can raise people from the dead then he should be able to put people back together from their ashes
So let me be cremated
I never liked the idea of my body being left to rot six feet under anyways
I think about who will be around when I die
I could go at any time so
whether or not my parents will be around to mourn the loss of their child is irrelevant
How much would I have accomplished?
Would I have made an impact on the world like I'd always dreamed I would?
I've thought about my last words
What sound will people hear as I take my last breath?
I hope it will be
"see you soon"
I wonder where I'll be when the time comes
What sound will people actually hear as I take my last breath?
Will it be filled with regret? remorse? happiness?
I think about death.
I do
And as I close this poem, I'll ask you this question
Do you?