We heard Death’s voice today
As It whispered in our ears
Another friend has gone away
Just as we had feared
We felt Death’s hand today
As It rested upon our shoulders
The crushing pain has come again
Put upon us like a boulder
We said goodbye to Death today
As It called Baxter’s name
His paws clicked as he walked away
And with his brothers, he’s gone to play
RIP Baxter (04/14/2020). You were a good friend to my sister and my mom. You kept a piece of our grandparents with us. You reminded us of Dodger and Jasper before they passed. You were a sweetheart who played the part of cantankerous a**hole and still you were loved for it. You will be missed and your place can never be taken. Have fun in your healed body and say hi to Jasper and Dodger for us.
He sits across from his therapist as she checks off #boxes in her mind. She scribbles notes down from his answers and he bites his lip from asking. He’s new to this. His leg bounces, up and down, anxious for answers. Anxious to be told it’s not in his head.
The wind kisses the leaves with a playful breeze and dances with fading flowers. Insects buzz in swirls around his ears. Rough bark reaches for skin through thick sweaters but he welcomes its affirming touch. He #listens to nature, sat upon its packed dirt.
She talked to herself through every task. Rambled and raved. No audience required for the #insane mutterings she came across. She told stories in whispers and shouts. She told stories of the sad and mad. It kept her amused. They called her crazy, but she knew where her marbles were.
She held the leash loosely in her right hand as her dog marched forward, nose to the ground. Their feet and paws crunched on the #crisp leaves felled by Autumn’s breeze. Her eyes were vigilant for any threats to her dog and thankfully her dog listened when needed.
The #epoch of her life had been the four years in university. She sat in the back, hiding her mind from classmates and professors. She toyed around on her laptop, unable to focus. Anxiety thrummed in her heartbeat, coaxing her into depressive and manic episodes.
She stands out like a sore thumb covered in scars, tattoos, and piercings. Surrounded by girls in booty shorts and crop tops, she flashes her middle finger at the cookie cutters. She’s #contrarian and bucks the social norm. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
She was without an #anchor in the storm. The ropes that tied her to the docks had long since frayed, rubbed repeatedly between boat and wood. She nose dived under a large wave, its waters threatening to fill her. Alone in the harbour, she wondered how long she’d last.