she wants to say she's sorry;

she wants to say she's sorry
that maybe she was looking in all the wrong places
for the one thing that did not exist
but right in front of her.

her hopes and aspirations
perhaps her standards
all too high
always seemingly out of reach.

blooming;

marriage and babies
seeing them grow up
those that i once knew as children.

shoot, where am i in my life
in terms of the 'ticking clock'
maternity has not set it
nor has a ring on my finger
no one to tickle my heart.

at this point
i can be content with being single
no connections or ties
just living freely for now.

but it does pinch
and it does ache, even just a little
to see the happy families blooming
right before my eyes.

it came so quick, so swift;

it came so quick, so swift
without warning
and out like a capped candle.

all the hopes, dreams, and ambitions
nothing but faded whispers in the wind
cut from the rest of the world
forever hanging in limbo.

so precious to give up
but brutally taken away
cruelly cut short
leaving behind agony.

hold on to it
as tight as possible
never let go
because when it strikes
there is no turning back.

there were those happy memories;

there were those happy memories
of sitting around the christmas tree
opening presents, laughing gaily
spending time with beloved family.

those days have come and gone
lost in the past of time
disappearing somewhere in the darkness
collecting dust along the way.

it seem as if those feelings
will never lighten again
a flame that will forever kindle
dimly in our hearts.

maybe sometime in the future
it will slowly come to the forefront
and take its rightful place once again.

the seas have parted;

the seas have parted
and we're slowly drifting away
on little boats in opposite
directions.

new adventures await us
but will we forget our past
the times spent with one another
as we embark on this next chapter?

resisting temptation;

it's frustrating, really
how do i curb my thoughts
away from you.

resisting temptation is quite difficult
to keep myself from losing control
and falling down the hole.

i need the ropes and chains
to pull me back
to keep me from going over the edge
and failing myself.

help me end this
help me see pass this.

laundry dance;

she does her laundry in her undies
because she has nothing else to wear
but she does it so prettily
without a single care.

where she is, she is free
in the safe haven of her home
blasting out the music
dancing happily
in tune with the washer.

and then it comes to a halt
the final little click from the machine
indicating the end of a cycle.

but never to fear
she has two more loads
and the fun will begin again.

i stop, i breath, i listen;

i stop, i breathe, i listen
to all the quiet around
searching out for the sound
that will shatter the glass that surrounds.

there is something ethereal
that science nor religion can explain
of finding that one star
hidden in the core
of our bodies.

it is something we cannot see
nor can we grasp in our hands
but only what we can feel
by simply listening to ourselves.

it is different for you and i
each person for their own
it reflects who we are
unique in every way.

she wishes;

she wishes she waited, saved it
and didn't through it away
haphazardly

where did that control disappear
one thing led to another
and finally pass the boundaries
like sand slipping through fingers

a bit of guilt gnaws continuously
year after year, anytime it came close

why didn't she wait
why couldn't she wait

when she was young;

when she was young
she could climb the countertops
to reach the cookie jar
from the highest cabinet.

when she was young
she could run for hours outside
without ever breaking a sweat.

when she was young
she could create vivid characters
play make-believe to her heart's content
without every worrying about the world.

when she was young
she could hardly wait for new years eve
the only day she could stay up past
her ten o'clock bedtime.

when she was young
boys had cooties and germs
and were perfect targets
for chasing on the playground.

when she was young
she could almost do a three-sixty
while swinging on the swings
right after downing cartons of milk.

when she was young
she would spend the summer evenings
catching fireflies to light her dreams
at night before going to sleep.

when she was young
she could remember going to bed at night
content and happy, waiting for the new day
and all the adventures it would bring.

but now, she is older
she has grown more mature
and has left childhood behind
to be remembered only in memories.

the responsibilities of life has come
far too quickly
but all too exciting.
a new chapter may have opened
a new door may have unlocked
but all that she learned from childhood
although faded in the distant
she would carry on forever.

i can remember;

i can remember
you were once so little
an infant i held in my arms
albeit clumsily as a seven year old is.

then i saw you again
you were not much older than i was
when i first met you.
under very hard circumstances our second encounter
so again, you probably could not
remember me.

now you have grown up
so much older you have become
slowly becoming the man you are to be
and i know you more than likely
cannot remember me.

sadly but honestly
we will probably never meet again
unless another incident draws us back together
and there will be one or two more times
that i can see being a possibility
though those thoughts are hard to think about.

we may be tied by blood
but we will live like strangers
however unfortunate that may be.

lost time;

i will lazily watch the days pass on by
one after another
blissfully unaware at how fast they go
simply counting my current blessings.

but will i be too absorbed
to notice the changes around me
and within myself.
will i be too preoccupied
to realize all the dreams i once had
perhaps now out of reach.

in my old age with my aching fingers
will i still be staring out of the window
watching the clouds roll by
wondering what had happened
to lost time?

new day;

it's a new day
the sun is shining
and the sky is blue
not a cloud in sight.
hope is re-ignited
dreams are revived
and it's a clean slate
before us.

first code;

i remember stepping into the room
and stepping right back out
the frenzy commotion a bit overwhelming
as a medical staff battles
death cloaked in a cardiac arrest.

i can see his face still
lying on his hospital bed
his eyes still open
but focused on nothing
as they intubated him.

medication after medication
prepackaged and already prepared
to push as quickly as possible
and compressing the heart to circulate.

time seemed to stand still
and i held my breath
screaming in my head
chanting my own nonsensical prayer.

and then i was thrust into their world
relieving compressions for another
a completely different sensation from a mannequin.

my arms did not fall off
nor did my concentration break.
everything seemed methodical
but my brain a train wreck.

he couldn't make it
and i can see so clearly his head and face
turning blue, becoming cyanotic
permanently.

i cried
i cried for all that i could not do
i cried for the life that was stolen
i cried for everything.

this is why i am here, is it not
this is why i am in school, is it not.

but it seems so surreal
goodbyes are never easy
though pain will subside with time
but seeing death stays with you
for eternity.

i will never forget.
i cannot forget.

simple times;

she trips down the flowered fields
laughing gaily, hair tossing in the wind
relishing the present with no worries to burden her.

a breath of fresh air fill her lungs
all the beauty in the world
being balled up onto one exchange of gases
mixed in somewhere with the oxygen.

it is a wonderful moment to pause
to replay the memories over and over again
of simple times spent outside the box
and seeing all that life can offer.

pretty little flower;

pretty little flower
swaying on the grassy hill
in the spotlight of life
but all alone.

the yellow petals flutter in the wind
as if beckoning you to come
waiting the little bee to pollinate
and perhaps spread its word.

it is a beauty hidden away
unknown, nonexistent
awaiting discovery
so that it may finally prove to the world
its worth.

a winding road;

a winding road
along the countryside
with fields that stretch
as far as the eye can see.

a pathway to a destination
where to, no one knows
but a place that the heart
can most definitely follow.

the worn mosaic walkway
paints a picture of dreams
illuminating the hopes
of those who walked before.

every person will take this path
no one will be left behind.
it is a journey we must all take
before we can begin to live.

lifeless vessel;

lying there
under the support of many
trying to bring him back
from where he went.

a high of emotions
but ever so focused
and concentrating with every willpower.

but in the end
futile
and difficult to cope
to see the end
and a lifeless vessel.

a broken promise;

a promise
that ran so deep and so true
destroyed, shattered
broken and dying
left alone on the cold ground.

the pain and grief of betrayal
stings like no other
piercing the heart and arresting the soul
until a single breath could no longer be drawn.

cruelty is in high abundance
present behind every corner
and all you can do is stand your ground
gather up the courage to fight
even if you fail
over and over again.

open door;

the door is opened
ajar, but still the breeze can pass
through the cracks
like a fresh morning.

all the dreams
all the hopes
and all the fears
lie right behind that door
and it is waiting
for everyone who has ever loved
who has ever cried
who has ever lived.

so many are afraid of what is lying before them
the lives of their past
the paths they have trod
will it come back to haunt them tenfold?

no one is all knowing
we cannot predict the future
but we can rely on our hearts
to lead us through that door
and discover what we have been missing.

one step at a time;

i am just taking it
one step at a time
so that if i trip over the cracks
i can have enough time
to break my fall.

fast-paced and busy
is hard for my brain to wrap around
i need it slow and easy
so that i can follow and comprehend.

so little by little
i will inch forward
even if it takes me an eternity
i will reach my goal
soon enough.

the iceberg has tipped;

the iceberg has tipped
and it is sinking
down, down, down
never-ending.

how had it come so close
when did it arrive?
all the pressure on the point
must have been the final drive.

it's hard to keep up
slipping from my hands
like water through a sieve
unable to contain anything.

maybe next time
there will be a sign of warning
so i will not succumb to a titanic sink
and maybe, maybe
i can keep my head above water.