k1b3th

We used to know each other – so I thought. But as of late, I've come to see the truth. Your vacant gaze locks with mine, and I know I can't expect a goodbye – no flash of recognition in your dying eyes. Father and daughter, only acquaintances. No remaining chances to learn who you really are. I have much to learn from Regret. Sometimes it takes a funeral to see the things that were before your very eyes. I spent far too long watching you become a complete stranger. I spent far too many sleepless nights afraid to witness your last breath, denying death its desired affirmation – for in Grief there lies a certain

Fingers punished, Pressed against metallic strings. Blood flows freely. Bronze and iron synthesize, Staining her neck, Her newly-polished surface, With frustration. Furrowed brow, bowed head, closed eyes, Taking comfort In our melodic union.

I've been clinging to the arrogant notion that I must be treated fairly. Resentment swells into foolish daydreams of sweet justice. The desire for vengeance grows strong, until I realize that I, too, have been unfair. Yet I still selfishly demand repentance of others, as if I am somehow superior; as if only I may take my revenge and right all wrongs against me. Arrogance and ignorance go hand in hand.

Red numbers indicate the time is slipping by. Indifferent to the point that desperation is past praying for, and now I can't seem to keep my focus on what matters most. Dispirited, my fingers numb, no sensation. I feel as if I shouldn't lose faith in people, but you've shown me just how little I have to lose. For me to care whether you live or die tonight is asking too much.

I put some pictures together for you of everything you ever loved – Pictures of your wedding, of Mom pregnant with your first, of me in your arms, you holding me tightly… Do you remember? Mom hangs them by your bed, says you look at them every night. "I want to go home," you say. Mom says you won't sleep unless she tells you, "We're packed already. We leave in the morning." Do you remember? Mom took the pictures down. You don't sleep anymore. Every night a battle already lost, fluid filling up your lungs, your breath laced with despair. You don't recognize me. You don't remember. In the morning, Mom tells me y

No one to hold her trembling hands, tarnished by the yellow stain of nicotine, its toxic aroma trapped in her faux fur coat – she is overcome by the allure of the forbidden. A lover lost to her relentless desire for carnal motions, poisoned by the familiar kiss of whiskey – lipstick-stained bottles, empty words forgotten at first light. She cannot turn away from her loveless addiction – he will wait for her no longer. Love makes its escape with fading cologne – mahogany undertones linger on satin sheets, mingle with cheap perfume. Red drained from roses, their carcasses crushed on carpet discolore

I remember well when she called me last, bloodless, cold, alone, wanting "just to talk." Insisting she didn't need my help – would never need my help. You're crazy, I said. Can't you see what you've done? What I've done, she murmured. What have I done now? How bad is the bleeding? Her answer unintelligible, liquor tainting her lips – I could almost feel her fading. I always told you, in that same sultry whisper, You're wasting your time.

You're one of those people, she said, who has to save everyone, aren't you? She paused, dangerous red lips forming   a smirk. Allow me to let you in on a secret, she whispered. I can't be saved. You're wasting your time. She left with that same smug smile playing upon her lips, but her eyes sang a song of sorrow, as forlorn and frightened as any I'd ever heard, that made my heart cry out in return.

A child's exquisite wonderland, visible only to those who seek its enchantment. Her innocence is but temporary. Cruel reality hidden by butterflies, soft lullabies, fair flowers of secret gardens. Her imagination is but a veil. A mother held captive, unable to draw her own exit. Blood tells no lies. Her immortality is but a dream.

This sickness takes its hold – unforgiving claws clutch a feeble heart, beating her fragile core into submission. She quivers, quickly fading – defenseless, no hope for deliverance. This relentless monster will never die – this agonizing cancer will never sleep – But this corporeal torment will one day come to an end.