The Not-A-Good-Bye Note

Wrote this one after work on a fairly typical uninteresting day:

The Not-A-Good-Bye Note

Hey,
It's me,  

Just writing to tell you 

She's going away.

But she'll be okay.

She's doing quite well.

I wish I could tell,

When she saw me,

She laughed.

She asked if you'd sail her 

Away on a raft.

She told me to tell you,

She's ready to go.

Ready for the next adventure,

Ya know?

She told me not 

To tell you goodbye,

Because secretly,

She doesn't want to die.

She's a bit nervous,

To tell you the truth.

Like a child waiting 

In the ticket booth.

Waiting for the next 

Wild ride,

For her Daddy to be there,

By her side.

She told me to tell you,

That it's been fun.

There's not an adventure 

She wouldn't have done.

(Emi's not dying.  Jsyk). 
A friend of mine described my death to me once in a game of Mafia.  Someone was about to be shot, so I jumped in front of the gun, taking the bullet, cried out a dramatic Shakespeare silique and died.
I've never been more satisfied with an imaginary death.  I wish I could plan it out like a game of Mafia.

I created another paper thanksgiving chain.  For about 3 months I wrote on little slips of black paper everything that has made my life fantastic.  I created 345 links last I counted.  Every time I thought I couldn't come up with anything else, I found something else.  345 links later, I still remember things I forgot to write.

Just this year has been a heck of a ride.  Thanks for the adventure's my friends! 

Coffee Shop Lamentations

Coffee Shop Lamentations 

This is my coffee

I couldn't afford.

I bought it on my own accord.

The foam begins to split apart,

A melting sensation 

At mid-way start.

The center displays 

A snowy leaf 

That peals to thread

Like a coral reef.

I said I'd make this poem brief.

Desperate need of some relief.

Should throw in a theme about my belief.

In slanted letters,

On the mug,

Says: A Cup of Coffee is Like a Hug!

A real hug 

Sounds kinda nice.

One that doesn't have a price.

This cup of coffee 

Just doesn't suffice.

A moment of relief,

From deprivation,

My taste buds dance,

In celebration.

A moment of peace 

From a major migraine.

A shirt that speckled 

With coffee stain.

Just a minute to relieve the pain.

To think I might not go insane.

Out side the shop,

It begins to rain.

Don't cry, 

Dear sky,

We'll be okay.

Though it's a hefty price to pay,

To do the stuff

We know is right,

To not go quite 

Into the night.

You might not have 

To swipe your card

To do the thing

You know is hard.

Now my coffee's reached the end.

Of all the money 

That I spend 

On a weak willed heart

I'm supposed to defend.

This broken clock I try to mend.

All the rules I try to bend.

But there's only so much 

Space in a glass.

5 minutes to pretend 

I'm upper class.

Try to do 

Enough to pass.

But the coffee always disappears.

The warmth will be

Replaced with fears.

Too many rocks 

In a head of gears.

But sometimes time 

Decides to stop.

Times it's in 

A coffee shop.

Sometimes someone sit's across.

And something tell's you,

He's the boss.

He directs his gaze

Straight to my face,

He says, 

"You are not a mistake.

In this time and place.

It's hard to believe,

But you're not lost.

You're my little girl.

And it doesn't cost."

This poem I dug back up from about 9 months ago.  Still feels relevant.