He was a character.
A character who should still be here.
Damn it all to hell.
He should still be here.
Tag: character
When he opens the door, I step in and an army of memories comes at me from all sides.
Lisa SchroederTag: memories
Looking at these pictures,
I wonder,
did that part of me
that flourished around him,
like prized perennials
under a tender gardener's care,
die along with him?
I'm an artist
not an athlete.
She taught me to slow down.
To look up and enjoy the view.
To not worry so much about the end result
that I end up missing things along the way.
I know. You can be fine, and then,
out of nowhere,
a memory blindsides you.
Tag: memories
I like
the memories
because they remind me
I haven't always been
this girl,
constantly
mad or scared
or confused.
Tag: memories
I'd reply, love doesn't tell time.
Love is simple there
or it isn't.
Every day,
in every way,
it was there.
Tag: poetry
Who do I get the feeling
this boy is
lost at sea?
Just like me?
Heads: This girl
Tails: That girl
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