There’s something beautiful about a wilted flower. There’s something sweet about a buzzing bumblebee. There’s something old about ground soil. There’s something wistfult about an autumn tree.

There’s something secretive about a stone. There’s something misunderstood about a weed. There’s something lonely about a picked petal. There’s something sophisticated about a buried seed.

There’s something safe about a garden. There’s something vigorous about a pinecone. There’s something hopeful about a birds chirp. There’s something vicious about a red rose.

I opened my eyes to see, But darkness greeted me instead I blinked slowly…once…twice… Still, stiff, solid like ice

Is this what dying feels like?

My hair felt like yarn on a doll Tangled, long, misshapen, and dense There were no scissors nearby So it hung, as if on standby It hung, and I felt an odd sense of goodbye

My hands were hard like metal I balled them tight into fists Thats when I heard their sound A screech of rusty pipes in a twist I never got the choice to exist

and yet I never solved the mystery of our human existence

The skin on my body poked and pricked Gone was the strong heart beat of a bass drum It had been replaced by a lonely hum I didn’t realize my days were numbered I didn’t realize I had become numb

…numb…

…numb…

…numb…

When I moved my lips to speak Air in my lungs gulped up my voice My words eventually came out weak Drunk and drowsy from a hungover sleep
The world might be a freak circus

• but I’m the only circus freak

My veins expanded with every pulsation They stuck out like sore thumbs Those which of mine were shaking And ebony black to the bone That’s when I finally noticed the mirror And realized I am not my own.

No. I had been tainted and contaminated A rose whose thorns wouldn’t let it grow, A blank canvas missing its Van Gogh, A burried body in winter’s snow

I had lost what was human long ago.

I want to feel, I want to know. I want to love, I want to grow. I want to trust, I want to feel, I want to experience a love that’s real.

I want to sleep, I want to wake. I want to dance, I want to play. I want to explore, I want to sleep I want to build what’s my own and make it unique.

I want to hope, I want to believe. I want to cry, I want to grieve. I want to learn, I want to hope I want to do something crazy, maybe elope?

I want to succeed, I want to discover. I want to be honest, I want to be tougher. I want to choose, I want to succeed I want to mend my heart so that it won’t bleed.

I want to remember, I want to dream. I want to laugh, I want to scream. I want to think, I want to remember I want to view life as something to treasure.

She purchased the gift, in a great big rush. She had already missed their regularly-scheduled phone call and her first bus. Only one more came for the rest of the night The gift would be the storyteller She could no longer afford to be late In a hurry, she flurried from the shop with the gift

He wrapped the gift in some old brown paper. He worried they would notice that the tape didn’t really stick and the paper was cracked, but that was all he had so he made do with what little he lacked. Anxious thoughts arose in his tired head Just a bow, he thought For the final touch As he continued to wrap the gift

He carried the gift, as tired as he was The last delivery on his route on the last day of the week After, he could lay in bed for as long as he liked with Corona as his companion it soothed his stomach it was the main attraction And then he would sleep for hours and hours and hours Oh he couldn’t wait to deliver this gift

She accepted the gift, feeling a swirl and a mix of feelings inside her It was almost midnight She thought they had forgotten Her fingers twitched and Her stomach gurgled She had really been giddy For such a little gift It was in brown paper It was the length of a shoe It weighed about 4 pounds And was tied with a bow In a pretty blue

She opened the gift And smiled with glee This gift that had travelled From the opposite side Of the country “I got it” She later said on the phone “It’s so simple and cute” “I’m so glad you love it, Her sister said “It was a pain to find” But worth every dime She made their brother wrap it The bow was all him too And after, a cranky delivery guy Got the responsibility Of making sure The gift travelled safely

It was a vintage bobble head
Of Woody from Toy Story She couldn’t believe Her sister and brother had found The small children’s item They bonded over as little kids A precious momento Of what first linked them together “I’ll see you in 6 months,” Her sister said “We’ve survived this year apart Know I miss you terribly But hey, just remember that you got a friend in me”

Thursday afternoons had always been my favourite days. Today, we sat on our blue park bench, but instead of sitting side by side like usual, we sat at opposite ends, which left a large gap in betweeen.

A cool breeze brought shivers to my body as I looked around. Although the cerulean sky was clouded, it was still bright enough that my eyes sharpened against the contrast of raw daylight. Colourful leaves drifted by, some dancing in the wind and others skipping against the faded green grass. Autumn’s here in Rochester were a weird and bipolar season, for both it’s rainy and windy weather. I woke up everyday, not knowing what to expect. I guess today, Mother Nature had sided with the wind.

I shivered again and looked beside me. He didn’t move.

I stared at the kids playground a few feet in front of us. Years ago, we used to play here. I remember hiding under the whole play structure, making imaginary food for each other out of sand. I would scoop it into my hands and place it in front of me. I’d try my best to shape it into a square before adding more sand on top. Then I stuck my finger in the middle and swirled it around in a loopy pattern. “Dinner is served,” I said. He shook his head and gave me a silly, knowing smile. We talked and pretended to eat our food there, just us two, hidden in solitary under the structure.

As I sat on our blue bench now, I sighed. The breeze past through again and instinctively, a chill swept through my entire body. I looked beside me. He only looked ahead. He didn’t move.

My eyes drifted to the steep red slides that faced us. I remember our competitions against each other on those slides. We’d raced down them, just to climb up the stairs to race again. One time, I was moving too fast to reach the stairs and tripped on the sand. My shin banged against one of the metal poles that kept the playground standing. I had howled in pain and fell to the ground. He stopped and dropped to the ground next to me. As I cried, his arms wrapped around me. Even when the tears stopped, and I was only rocking back and forth in a weak effort to soothe the pain, he didn’t let go. Not until he was sure I was okay. And once I was, we got up and raced again. We kept racing for a few more hours, until it was time to go home.

I looked to my side now. Still, he stayed in the same stoic position, looking straight ahead. He didn’t move.

The cool breeze passed by again. I glanced at the yellow swings, standing apart from everything else on the right of the playground. The swings swung in tandem with the breeze, its motion slow and tranquil. One swing obnoxiously squeaked as it moved while the others made no sound. I remember learning how to swing on that swing set. “I don’t know how to explain it, I guess,” he had said then, laughing at my pouting face as I dangled my little legs in front of me. “You just swing,” and he started to swing. I kicked my legs and huffed, hoping to match my movement with him. I only focused on following his lead and keeping up. Eventually, I actually did. He had smiled and said nothing else as we continued to swing for the rest of the time we spent there that day.

I shivered again. The hairs on my arms had come to a stand. I looked beside me. He was quiet, he didn’t move.

I took a shaky breath as my chest tightened. Unlike that day at the red slides, I wouldn’t allow my tears to come out today. I know it was just a basic, city playground, but it didn’t only consist of the slides, swings, and other elements that I had grown up in for such a long part of my childhood. In a way, it contained part of me as well, or at least my memories. And his too.

But today was our last Thursday afternoon together. I would never come back here again.

I looked at him once more. He was still quiet and motionless. I felt a large drop of water fall to my shoulders. It wasn’t tears though. No, it was Mother Nature and her mood swings. I looked beside me, at him again. “I love you, you know.” My words floated in the air, but they were far from void of meaning. My breath hiccuped, in replacement of pity tears. I had spent so many afternoons here, crying. But I was so tired of the crying and the tears, all of it. I didn’t want to anymore, I only wanted the good memories. “I love you 𝘀𝗼 much. Thanks for loving me.” I only wish I had remembered to tell him that when he was still here.

I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes. After a moment, I opened my eyes and let that breath out. For the first time since he had passed, i felt a little bit like breathing again.

I looked beside me, but he was gone. He was gone, like he always had been. He was gone and so was the wind, as a crack of thunder cried out. All at once, heavy rain started to pour as I stood up to start the walk back to my car alone.

I took the road less travelled by, And that has made all the difference For what this path has steered me from, Was a stagnant life, void of passion and bliss

I took the road less travelled by, The narrow one with much less green grass One covered by trees and silent like thieves I had to trust my gut, for too long had I questioned my moral compass

The other road was faced with colourful leaves and flora It had tire tracks on its feet and calluses on its hands The other road was wide, it was nice, and bitingly welcoming The road I took only had footprints in the sand

Both my innocence and fear led me down this road, But I decided that it was about time About time I live for myself while I was still alive About time I grew a backbone and straightened my spine

I took the road less travelled by, I took the road with greater stories to be told I took the road less travelled by, I took the road that gifted me a new home