She is too lovely, 

and you are too late. 

She is the woman you've never desired, 

though your meeting was set by fate.

And here she is, smiling so beautifully,

ready to escort you to the gate.

She will take your hand, and just 

watch for you to underestimate

the power in her fingertips. 

She is too lovely, 

and you are all alone. 

But she has haunted men's dreams,

and she has taunted your own.

You thought you'd have the time

to at least atone,

but she has a schedule.

Lady Death is not merciless, no.

But she does not discriminate

between the sinner and the saint.

He came bearing flowers, to cover the stench. I was in the middle of writing a story at the kitchen table, and he startled me with his presence. To be fair, I think he would have startled me no matter what.

"It is time," he said.

"Can I make just one more cup of tea? I love it so much."

"There is no time, and you don't get to choose."

"But I'm not ready," I complained.

"No one ever is," he responded.

"Where are you taking me?" I queried, my heart pounding in my ears.

"Nowhere, and everywhere."

"I don't understand."

"Your elements will fertilize the soil of this planet. When your sun finally goes nova and destroys this world with it, those elements will return to the stars and form new worlds. You are neither the beginning nor the ending, but part of the process."

"But where will I go?"

"Nowhere, and everywhere," he responded again cryptically. "It is not for you to know. Now come."

He reached out his hand, and I felt an enormous compulsion to take it. I had barely time to register the coldness of his fingers before the world went completely silent and black.

#death #challenge #prose #philosophy

i wish i

could bring you flowers

in spring

but i

clutch a vase of

snow and dead leaves

of autumns i crave,

of winters i’ve saved

and summer is still

so far away

i wish i

could bring you flowers

in spring

but i

clutch a vase of

past memories

of pain we’ve designed,

of a love left behind 

and i 

can’t let go.

Crying with

such ease

feels like

breathing

with no air

Do you remember the first time we met? When you told me your name, I held onto it like an earth-shattering secret. With sharp fingers and sharper memory, I traced your words into my skin for the next three days. Sure there were scars, but I didn’t want to forget you. Do you remember the first time we kissed? I asked you what time it was, and you looked at me, eyebrows slightly raised, mouth curled into a subtle smirk, as if time wasn’t real. My mind was racing as you began to lean in. Was it 10:30? Your lips inched closer to mine. Or maybe 10:45? And before I knew it, time wasn’t important. Your lips meshed into mine. I felt the entire energy of the universe within me— stars in my toes, planets in my eyes. You at my core. Do you remember when you said you loved me? The words floated like a uniquely delicate leaf in the wind, gently landing in my lap, begging for me to find it natural and lovely. I did. Do you remember when you said goodbye? I cried because you didn’t. I loved you. I still love you.

--A Broken Heart

My sister tells me you'll have eyes like your father, freckles like mine. That you'll have a smile big enough to hold the universe, that the brownness of your skin will be made for catching sunbeams, that one day your hugs will be wide enough to hold all of the things you love within them. I hope that this letter will be one of those things. My sister tells me all that things that you could be -- and I find myself wondering, every now and then, if you'll become that astronaut I'd wanted to be as a child, if you'll be as stubborn as I am or as placid as your father, if you'll decide to marry someone who knows there'll be an end sooner than later. If you'll end up having a weak heart like mine, or if you'll be as strong and healthy as can be. There's plenty of time for wondering in here.

I've told my sister to give this to you if we don't ever get to meet. I love you, baby girl -- and I'm sorry I won't ever be able to hold your hand.

                                                                                          -- to my little piece of the sun,

                                                                                                                               Mama

everything about him was surreal. from his ocean foam eyes to his curly mess of hair to the freckles dancing on his cheeks. the way he laughed, and smiled, and spoke, and hummed along to his favorite songs when they came on the radio. the way he would pause for a minute, look at you, then rush over and kiss you like you were his oxygen. the way he would squeeze you tight and make you feel safe. the first time he held your hand and every time after. the way he would care for you and remind you that you are his princess and treat you like one, even when you tell him he doesn't have to because you are happy just spending time with him. and fuck, he was perfect. but not the kind of perfect that you lusted over. it was the kind that made waking up in the morning worth it; the kind that was brighter than the stars would ever be; the kind that could spark a flame in your life that would make all the dark nights warm. he was the kind of perfect that made you fall in love and never let go.

The alarm sounds and he is off

The bed springs grumble as he tumbles out

The faint patter from the shower starts and ends

Closet doors open and shut, clothes are donned

For hours, no noise; he is away again

Perhaps at that job he always complains about

Yes; in the evening he returns, tired

Ready to repeat today's events tomorrow

Years this goes on, painful monotony

Never any others in this house; no friends, no family

But one visit from an angry and disappointed mother

Who ingrains in his head that he is a failed man

The cycle goes on, always the same

Day to day, he goes away

And comes back the same man

Broken, moaning to himself about his misery

And one morning the shower is not turned on

The closet doors open but do not shut

There is the sound of rope tied up and around itself

And the cycle, finally, is broken

My face hurts from the smiles

You inspire me

I can't hold back my feelings

You retire me

There's so many days left for me here and I could spend each one with you

You make the stars shine

You make the scars fine

My chest feels like four-way traffic in rush hour when you talk to me

The shades of life seem a lot brighter when you're around

The darkness has surpassed

You wash over me

I can feel the rain kiss the top of my head and wash down behind my ear

The sunset is beautiful, but you are piercing

You make a double take worthless

You bring hope to the hopeless

Every second that passes, I wish I could've spent it with you

But I'll have my day, and I'll see it through

I'm sorry for staring

I was just writing poetry with my eyes

Your beauty took my mind away

Your skin drenched my thoughts

I'm harmless

I'm just a hopeless romantic

I enjoy visually tasting a beautiful thing

We had a moment

It was beautiful

We danced under the moon

The stars twinkled upon your face

We embraced

I became drunk on your kiss

Our arms became tangled

Our hands roamed on our canvases

It was a beautiful moment together

It was very short lived

Wait, what's happening?

Someone is calling my name

Reality set back in

Nothing even happened between us

I'm sorry for staring

K.J.A. (c) 2016