Fiona

A Dr. Pepper float in my favourite mug!!

Teddy

I was there when you said your first word Your mother’s laughs of joy being painted into the walls Your father’s smile combing them with the scent of pride Your words ever floating, hanging in the air

I was there when you had your first kiss Your dream-induced eyes engaged with mine Your entranced lips telling me all about his Your hair a mess from running your hands through it for excitement

I was there when you had your first breakup When your eyes dripped of uncertain loss Your cheeks like early morning dew from your river of tears My fur a mess from crying into me, no more of a help than a punching bag

I was there when your parents told you what was going to happen How they still loved you, no matter what Your hands trembling on my soft arms Your indignant sobs of unbelief thrown at the door behind them

I was there when you had your first time The soft words of passion mixing with the powerful hands of lust Your uncertainty, your reluctancy, your anxiety His response when you refused

I was there when you cut yourself for the first time Your tears of self-malice ripping down the fabric of your cheek The first drops of siphoned blood falling on my body Your heaving cough from your third Or fourth Or fifth cigarette Of that day

I was there when you brought home the first customer Your dead Empty Expression writing believable lies filled with contempt and self-pity Entrancing him for the sake of money’s worth The monster that lay deep within I remember seeing for what wasn’t the first time

I was there when you brought home the pills Your hair a mess, your cheeks like glacial rivers, your hands trembling Your uncertainty, your rage, your decision

Your words ever floating, Hanging in the air

How deep into your depths do go your eyes? As far as I have seen, they know no end; So far across as stretch the morning skies, So deep does go your soul, my dearest friend. To see your face is all at once to me A thrill of doves that rises to the heav’ns A choir singing hymns for all to see A cry of joy so violent that it deaf’ns

To hear your voice so sweetly singing speech Alights my ears and brings aforth a song That fills my lungs beyond the point where each Could be a house; a tune to last so long That when the trumpet sounds, the Kingdom Come, Singing with you, I still will not be done.

jess

artist: kit agar

source: califlowers magazine

haley tippmann

Where then, go the spirits of the martyrs? How then, do they find peace in their sacrifice? The demise of one for the many is that of a brave man But what happens when bravery is just a roll of the dice?