forthesickandsappy

[forthesickandsappy]

“You know you are growing up and there is no way to stop it in time.”

Life is beginning to feel as if i’ve leaned down to tie my shoe. I beg you to wait, but you’re becoming blended into my down-hanging tears.

I call out “wait, just a moment, i’m almost done!” But the sidewalk has shrunk you down and i can no longer find you.

— for the sick and sappy / KG

[forthesickandsappy]

why a person writes

[forthesickandsappy]

A promise to the not-yet departed.

What is it that you think you have become?

Do you think when you are gone,

My mind will erase you?

You are not the wrong answer on a test,

Or a bad dream you try to rub out of your eyes.

I know this life has tortured you,

I know there have been nights you’ve lied awake,

Alone, holding fate in the palm of your hands.

Promise me this, for I know your skepticism on the afterlife,

If for when you die, you can look down and see the aching in

me,

If I do not celebrate, or mourn outwardly, do not fear I’ve

forgotten you.

There will never be a speech to sum up the whole of you, nor

an arrangement of flowers to match the beauty your life

grants.

There will never be a poem strong enough to make others

know you,

Or a story told again one-sided that will be complete without

your laughter alongside it.

When you are gone, a hole will open up inside me and

swallow my words.

I fear I may never write again.

They say true love is the strongest bond,

But they must never have had a friend as I’ve had.

For even if love were to fail me,

And trust me, you know it has,

Who then was left to lean on? Who’s hand held mine at my

lowest? When I feared my own life, who told me to stay?

I have written about you before, and yet it doesn’t do your life

justice.

You may have known pain, you may have known suffering,

But mine has been halved just by the knowing of you.

I don’t have much to give except words,

For they carry more meaning in life than death,

So while you are here I will write. I will write for you.

My friend, august, you encapsulate the sun.

When day turns to night, warmth may feel far,

But nobody forgets a great ball of fire in the sky.

with love,

-forthesickandsappy / KG