I stood there high and saw the sorrow from loss below my heart did nothing tomorrows came with tears all around but still nothing why did you get to take the both of us away from a life of no regret you controlled everything now you are nothing not even a thing anymore you should have been made to be someone who lives with it too but instead got to leave with half of the secrets I bare the weight of two heavy with memories of darkness pained by unheard screams of listen to me I grieving not death no, I am grieving the loss chances to face hurt with words stab hard with scars shown with no shame be the trial seeking reason and forgiveness only I forever will walk the green mile alone and life as I know it throws your sentence away forever
Ah, the Christmas argument. What’s a Christmas without a good go at it over gifts ideas, budgets, or how much does that cost? This time of year can bring a lot of holiday cheer but unfortunately, it also brings with it some holiday jeers. For example, last night while shopping I happened to find myself within an earshot from a full-on couple spat one aisle over. You could tell it was one where both parties were whisper shouting at each other. A very awkward moment we can completely relate to because who are we kidding? We’ve all been there at some time or another during the weeks leading up to Christmas. Tensions so high that with one tiny mood swing, all of the sudden everyone is doing a quick about-face, ready to throw Christmas out the door and forget it was even happening. Enough of this, we’ve spent too much money already and half of what is in this cart is the wrong gift idea anyway. So there. I am going home.
I decided to designate a page for my Christmas series. Keep all of my memories and stories about Christmas in one festive place. There is more to come, but this should get you in the spirit of the holidays. Hope you enjoy them. Just click below…
Ah, the ruined Christmas gift. No better way to sabotage your own built-up magic spirit of the holidays than tampering with the biggest most wanted item on your list. I was about six or seven when I began to get to the bottom of this Santa break and enter gimmick. As each year went on, the more cognizant I became of the sneaking around my mother, grandmother, and aunt were doing during weeks leading up. My senses became Santa sharp. I remember starting to spot cover-up Christmas things my family were doing to paint the most perfect backdrop to a wonderful holiday to come. Welcomed, only I was on to them. I became keener on hearing Christmas code conversations that filled the cookie baking nights of my grandmother’s kitchen. I knew, but the cookies were too delicious. And, one day, which turned out to be the beginning of the end to my belief in a man called Santa, was when I found the peace a la resistance. I found the Holy Grail of childhood Christmas holiday wonder. I found the notorious and infamous gift hiding place. Yup, with all those skills I had acquired, and with all the determination of a kid destined to ruin the only magical wonder he would experience in his life, I went ahead and spoiled my very own Christmas with one too many tears in the gift wrapping.
There is nothing like keeping a deja vu in your back pocket. Easily triggered by the stimulus that surrounds you. Today, a walk to the edge of the harbour and my whole life flashed back. All it took was the smell of saltwater, the touch of a rains mist, and wonderful memories came flooding back as strong as the approaching tide. A picture is wharf a thousand words. – Ash
I was with you for a while every one of those moments I playback when I think of you when my heart is calling out for yours to hear your skin a shade of an angel hair…I remember its smell tucked close under my chin when you smiled the whole world became happy and those eyes they kept exploding my heart stretching it with love you are the best thing that ever happened to me a day that changed my life so beautiful and full of hope…and my daughter our bond and made up language only ours will be forever your laughter is what I hear the most, only it grows faint those days I miss you so much it kills me a little bit more reminds me how I am living with an empty heart with a box full of memories slowly losing what it feels like to have a pulse as the pages of my mind bleed ink disappearing the days of our lives together all I have left are these words to keep going
Red sky evenings I remember them stretched highway at eight o’clock over the overpass to watch there is one last summer night coming out to play my pace quickens to catch up traffic flies by this one road boy who is wandering far from what he can recognize adventure must be the same no matter where you are until I pass by an old train track that divided two kinds no friends from either so I move on you could hear blades of grass keep a cool breeze in check slowing down seconds for teenagers of the land to win toys, steal kisses, and lose ice cream it is impossible to be this alone with Carnival noises filling the air but the lights threaten shadows the stars show up, crowds filter, I am lost walking forever on the eve of September heading back to the red road toward home