The Climb (Part I)

My heart races.

I keep my eyes to the sky,
scanning the steep mountain side
-the vertical ledge in which I seem to be approaching
in hopes of a sturdy place hold

The wind pounds through
the looming cliffs

My fingers dance,
clutching into a fist
The ache burns as I grip and release
Below me is a dark and vacant Hell

No room for error.

The jagged walls encircle me
Slick with the
Rain quietly falling into the background


Whispering words
of encouragement
                                or something like that

                                "Don't look down."

I continue to climb.
Heart beating out of my chest.

until I

lose my grip

and




the World
              holds her breath.

Through the Looking Glass

Pictures that once lined the wall
have fallen,
they lay scattered on the floor,
their frames broken
their glass casing shattered.

Beautiful,
smiling faces
captured in time
long forgotten.

Shards of sharp crystals
Plunge into my pale, bare feet
as I walk the empty hall
Ruby red blood pooling
under my every step.

The empty space where the memories once hung
isolated in a happier time and place
remains the same color it was
on move-in day,
bright
fresh
new
while the rest of the house bares a decaying coat of grey

My fingers dance along the splintered trim
Wincing with each prick
Wincing at the hollow grief
resting low in my chest.

This house holds a million and one memories

My hand reaches into my pocket
and lingers a while.

My nails scratch at the flint wheel
while I caress the bottom case softly.

And then,
Like it is nothing to me,
I pick up the closest picture.

We're young,
his red hair
and blue eyes
his arms around me.

I pop the lid
to a small flame
hold it to the memory
as I watch it burn
dropping it to the ground
where the others rest in peace

I walk slowly down the hall
of  my old home
my old life
my brother
whose soul rests
while ours still ache on.

The flames crawl up the walls
consume the floor boards
and grab at the painted moulding

They lick the old, dusty curtains
and burst the fragile bulbs
They begin to roar with anger
as they reach for more and more.

I make my way up our creaking stairs
and down two doors
-Through the looking glass
a young girl sits
playing with her dolls
She's content.
Quiet.
She looks just like me.

But as I reach for her
The flames devour me.
My soul
eaten up in a blind rage of grief
despair
and losing what you love.

Just like that
I am
Broken.

Why?
Why do you do this?
I miss you so.

How?
How can I move on?
Everyday I miss you more.

Go.
Go ahead and leave me
Leave me all alone.

Tell me
Tell me you're gone
And break my heart.

I miss you

Like a word waiting to be spoken
Or thought clinging in the back of your mind
Waking you in the middle of the night
to remind you that it is still there

-The feeling remains-

Like there's more to this life
Than this
Like there is more to be done
Than just sitting here idly
Watching the world pass by


So,
what am I waiting for?

Actions speak louder than words
but there are moments that leave us
actionless
speechless

Moments that leave us
wondering
how we got this far
that leave us
remembering
those who have helped us
to get this far
and those we have had
to leave behind.

Actions speak louder than words
but there are moments that leave me
in awe
of your love.

It's hard,
you know?

Being depressed I mean.

Laying down at night
alone,
or not
and just thinking.

A teacher once told me that writing
isn't about how you feel
it's about how you think

and I think that I am tired of this.
I think that I am ready to shed this skin
once and for all
and evolve.

My life is nothing special.
I am simply
average

But my life is beautiful
in that in my suffering
in my darkest hour
there is a light that shines
through the darkness

I think that we are all evolving
towards our perfected selves
while our body slowly decays.

It is hard
to be depressed.
To feel the weight of the world
crushing your chest
To think that you could die
right here
right now
and it wouldn't matter

To think that this moment
means nothing
and that you are
insignificant
because you are
in the grand scheme of things

But it doesn't have to be that way.

Father's Day

We sit silently in this moment

Memories slipping by 

like water through a grate, 

sand through fingers.

Our time here is waning away 

But Dad,

There is so much more 

that I have left  to say.

Words that I cannot speak

as they hold little meaning 

compared to my short lifetime

spent with you.

The little moments

the quiet ones

Spent between adventures 

and the other mundane parts of life 

that seemed to seep in 

when we weren't looking

Long car rides

Transient visits

Homesickness eroding at a young heart

There is so much more

that I have left to say

-words do them little justice.

The love you have shared and instilled

is like a warm blanket on a cold day,

or a story before bed.

It is a pat on the back

after giving your best

and the constant encouragement

to get back up

no matter how many times you fall

and the laughter 

when looking back on just how far

we've come.

While it sounds simple

All that I can say is that

I am so lucky

-fortunate

to have such an example to follow

A lifetime with you as my Father

will never be enough

Happy Father's Day.

Love,

Kirsten