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OLDER

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RINGS

D-LAND

GUESTBOOK

No.
I don't want to talk.
I have a plan
to hunker down
and let the storm just blow me by.
If I cry,
it's real,
it really happened
and damn these tears.
Damn these years
of memories
of cookies and peaches
and dancing Ponchos.
Of buttons and roadtrips
and Cherry 7Up.
Of "Special Girls"
and Cracker Barrels,
all so bright
and full of joy
before the shadow came.
Before the spot on your lung
became what it had no right to be.
A hungry threat inside you
waiting to feed on us all.
And I refuse to think of how
you fought for a life you knew
you were losing.
Of how the several warnings
didn't mitigate your passing.
Stupid roses.
Stupid preacher.
Stupid tears.
Now your cancer
feeds on us.

Jerilene Moyer, RIP December 25th, 2005

design by fergie

Bits of fire in the sky push me east back home. I used to live in flames but it's hard on the wings. Choke me. Smoke me. Scare me back. You try but you just can't. I peel the layers in my spare time, and you're easy to see through. I can fly, I've discovered on my own. I may be the lesser butterfly but my wings are just as strong. Who are you to tell me to find a place to land? I may be the lesser butterfly but baby watch me glide.