A helpful tree for grieving

I want to leave nothing left unsaid Leave

Nothing to chance 

If only, at close of day, there were no ellipses

But I know I’ll forget something important

That

We’ll talk about the meaning of life but I’ll forget to say I love you

Or maybe

I love you is all I’ll get out

See

Despite Shakespeare

An entire life can’t be condensed into a single soliloquy

All the things I should have said won’t get said and one day you’ll be gone 

Or

I’ll be gone

Whoever goes first, there will definitely be a loss 

And 

I am not equipped for that unprepared ending

I am not prepared to say goodbye before I’ve told you that I love the way your hair smells like summer vacation 

That

Yours are the strongest hands I’ve ever held 

That you’re my swan in Monet’s water lilies and you’ve always been the lighthouse guiding me home

If the number of things I have to tell you was directly proportional to the amount of time I’d have to tell them to you

I’d read you every entry on google in every language ever spoken 

But

That’s not how it works is it

One day you’ll be gone

Or

I’ll be gone 

Whoever goes first there will definitely be a loss

And

I am not prepared for the ending 

-EJoveJohnson

Proximity

The intimacy of proximity

Otherwise strangers rest together softly

Momentary bedfellows on buses

Distinct lives, histories, and futures 

Collide in an infinitude of fleeting encounters 

The ephemera of their unknown 

Lingers

Her perfume in my hair 

His coat on my skin 

The accidental chiaroscuro of sunlight and clavicle exposed in unintended sleep

Captured, filtered, remembered

Anonymously

-EJoveJohnson

Stranger

Every day in every way I grow
Stranger
In this body stranger than the mind it does not know
Soul deed and countenance so wholly out of tune
A glimmer in a mirror glimpsed so utterly askew
Whose is this face, whose are these thoughts, in whose mind do they belong
For mine is surely not the one from whence these wild things come
Who is this person growing here wild in her cage
Why is this person sentenced here, apathy her stage
A stage a cage a half filled page familiar yet unknown
How is it that I am here, so very far from home
A place I don’t remember well, perhaps one I’ve never known
But home is more than place and time
And I am more than she
A girl who grows within a cage
It’s walls she cannot see

Anthony

In confidence he spoke of angels
Transcendent beings who whispered in his dreams
They told him how to save a life
Not his
But, a child’s
So
He drove his motorcycle off a bridge
And
She lived
– Though the doctors said she wouldn’t
So did he
– No one’s quite sure how
But
That wasn’t the point
He wasn’t the point
Theirs were not the secrets of longevity
They spoke of sacrifice
A choice
To balance some incomprehensible cosmic scale
Until
They found the right dose of seroquel
And
They never spoke again
Because
Angels aren’t real
Unless you’re mad

Equinox

The creeping death of autumnal chill
Bringing an inevitable end to all that is verdant
Dreams fall as leaves to anonymous oblivion
And again, I am here
Returned to the crossroads
Again, alone
Will I always be so
Have I some flaw in form or function
Some deficit of soul
That renders my self so profoundly unworthy
Name that which I should change and it is done
Only
There is no voice here but the wind
No heartbeat but the echo of my steps
My appeal for reprieve
Falls silently on solitude’s ears

Feral

He wore her wild like the crown of a fallen kingdom

Celebrating the mythos of her savagery, in the context of his taming it

He never loved her, could never love her, anymore than one loves the carcass of a withered rose

But feral things don’t survive in cages, any more than fire survives under glass

That’s where he went wrong, see, he could no more possess her than he could the trade winds

No more tame her than even the most skilled seaman tame the waves

She didn’t kill him, no

His pride was his downfall

Her hands just guided the blade
-EJoveJohnson

Assimilate

People experience in different ways
And
I, am no different
In that
My experience, is different from yours
I will not perform my experience
To
Appease your expectations
I will not
Perform for you
The ritual of superficial fealty in the court of public opinion
You hashtag for justice
Selfie for attention
Petition the gods of social media for recognition
That can be defined in advertising dollars
But
That is not how i experience the world
And
I will not lie for you
-EJoveJohnson

Ruminations

I searched for you in the deepest parts of myself
because somehow I have always known you Always loved you
but
I found you elsewhere drifting peacefully in a dream world of your own creation
and
I realized then, just how beautiful a human soul could be
You are familIar but also every language I’ve never learned
Innate but contrary
You are my everything beautiful and always home
The heart whose rhythm matches mine
-EJoveJohnson