My Golden Rules

Hold your dreams close, your love tight, and your head high. Always have the courage to push forward. Learn from past mistakes and never be ashamed of what you've done: yesterday is the reason you made it to today. You're alive when you learn to accept that there's always going to be a lifetime behind you, and if you don't look back once in a while you'll never realize how far you've come.

Pause.

2009

A torn up letter in a pocket of shame
A pointed finger, but no one to blame
A half-empty heart with so much to say
A whisper the wind steals and carries away.

Unspoken apologies that should have been said
A restless toddler, sentenced to bed
The burnt-out bulb that was never replaced
The memories that could have never been faced.

The scent that lingers but never fades
The uselessness of unsharpened blades
A scream omitted in the black of night
But no one to hear, and no one to spite.

You're the ghost that's never coming back
And the red I see and the patience I lack
You were the future that became the past
A yesterday come and gone so fast.

But that yesterday, it's always ours
The battle wounds; the cuts and scars
A yesterday I wouldn't take back if I could
A promise kept; I knew you would.

A lighter, nearly out of gas
But the fire burns, through shattered glass
The memories clutched 'til the end of time
The one thing they can't do: rewind.

Dear Barbie:

Your fake tan's fading and your smile's degrading..
Tell me, are you proud of what you are?
Cake on the make up and shake off the breakdown..
Time will never heal the scars.
You'll regret the path you chose someday,
And the life you lost along the way

The Cycle

Modified "Found" Poem from Cannery Row -- 2009

Nerve racking.
It's the little things that make the difference,
The full impact.
Struggling old horrors,
Constant attention.
A kind of edge
For God's sake;
Margin of safety.
Everything was all right...
Such a wonder of God.
Someone Who loved and understood
Small difficulties And
The infinity of possibility...
Fate took a hell of a lot of trouble.

Madame Defarge

"Found" Poem from A Tale of Two Cities -- 2009

Quick eyes, watching eyes, flashing eyes
By no means delecate
Necessary faith, fatigue.

Shout and shed tears
Disdainful faces of despise
Advantage
A faint and bare existance.

Faces of pride,
So expressly unconscious
Doomed to destruction
Royalty and Nobility

Vengence and retribution
Always advancing
Faint of heart, left behind
It is the rule.

Knitting, still knitting
Knitting away assiduously
So particularly determined
As plain to her as the sun.

In every possible way,
Always preparing, a little depressed
She tied a knot around the King and Queen
Long live the Devil.

Conversation with the Clouds

2008

      "I hope it quenches your thirst for attention
      That everywhere I go, people question
      Your decison, and I am left only with the explanation
      That, though hoping to set himself free,
      My friend will now spend forever in the skies..
      And there he lies where he longed to be."

"But, friend, the atmosphere's thinning out
I'm falling from the sky
You're screaming my name, louder, still
Please fear me not; or, at least, try.
You know I've hoped for all these years
To never let you down
I've been watching over you,
And this void, abandoned town.
I swear, you haven't lost so much
The music's reached me, after all
Keep your feet on solid ground, kid
Heaven was never worth the fall."

      "If you've been watching over me,
      Then surely you have seen
      The plague that's taken over
      This world you forced yourself to leave."

"I am a coward at best, dear child
But please, forgive me all the same
Tell my Momma and my Daddy that
I'll spend eternal life in vain"

"A Moment in Heaven"

2009
Written by Jess Wilkinson
Performed by Joey Libby
Now on iTunes!

How many times have you counted your breaths
Or the steps that you take, or the days you have left?
Numbered your laughs, or tallied the stars
Measured the distance, but still asked, "How far?"

You've made me forget about the steps and the breaths
And the days, and the million countless laughs
But never once did we lose sight of the stars
Between you and me, no length is too far

No matter where you go in life, you'll always have my hand

I look to the heavens, but I only see clouds
I try hard to whisper, but still I'm too loud
I give it all I've got, but it's never enough
You're there to support me, but it's still so tough

And I need you like a child needs dreams,
Because I'm still just a kid, and I need to believe
You keep your head up, and I'll do the same
I won't let you quit until you win the game
I'll be by your side when you take a stand
No matter where you go in life,
You'll always have my hand

You're the only one who's opened my eyes
Turned my head, and made me look to the skies
And maybe I don't see clearly just yet,
But you're the only one who's tried

Dust Bunnies

2010

Cast her onto the shelf, like you did
to the shadows that haunted your past
and threatened your future
She won't be lonely up there

An Inspiration

2008

Once upon a dreary forever
I screamed and I reached
but still you resist to save me.
Please do not let this persist..

Back when I believed I was fine,
You knew nothing but dishonesty.
Maybe that's what made us realize
You're nothing but what you were back then.

My veins flow with a form of chagrin..
Tell me you care once again.
And let us all stare and laugh
at your pitiful excuse for an apology.

You're not really concerned for my well-being.
Don't lie to yourself.. Do you hear the words I scream?
Deceit knows not nothing but of itself,
and you are nothing but a crowded dream.

Your signals of forgiveness are often misinterpreted,
your knowledge of bleeding is frequently twisted into fear.
Your kindness is seldom seen as that,
But often a self-centered, conceited sort of pity.

You know too much for my liking, and I know nothing to do about it.
This will not stop, and it's just as I feared.
Your infatuation of agony must heal itself.
There is nothing to be done from here.

Forget me, or maybe forget me not
You will never understand.
I know what I plan to do.
But the question is, do you?

I think I despise you, but I'll take the fall.
For what it's worth, I'll stick around-
Maybe that's what is best for all.
Forgetting's not as easy as it sounds.

Words of true passion, spoken from the mouth
of someone who comprehends pain.
Please don't tell me you are sorry...
It's nothing but a dressed-up game

Crimson

2006

Crimson is passion
A screaming silence
A warning to stay away
It’s danger; grief; violence.

The smell of smoke
That shortens your breath
Coarse, rough, and scratchy
The color of a predicted death

The lonely sky at dawn
With only half a sun
She fights for a spot in the rainbow
And will fight it ‘til she’s won.

Crimson’s the color
That burns in the heart
It’s what you feel at night
When you wake with a start

The sound of a bullet
That’s getting near
The whirl and scream—
That’s crimson you hear.

Can you taste the regret?
It never quite goes away
Crimson breaks rules
Of the games you all play.

Crimson’s a loner
She needs no one else
She does just fine
All by herself.

She doesn’t try to compare
To her sweet sister, Pink
Crimson’s happy just being her
She doesn’t care what they think.

No following trends;
Original meets technique
She didn’t want to be just plain “Red”
Crimson is unique

Treason in the Sixth Sense

2008

Chase after things you know are not real
Reach for the things you know you can't feel
Lie through your teeth at what you don't hold
Touch your own heart and pretend it's not cold.

Scream in my face 'til your lungs explode
Pretend this is all just some secret code
Steal away things that will never be yours
Stomp down the hallway at all the closed doors.

Try to search for the broken path home
But know that the crumbs left you to roam
Pry open a lock that was meant to be sealed
Use greed as your sword, and me as your shield.

A Mountain Called Misery

Shakespearean Sonnet -- 2008

Scream your heart out, for it is not safe here
Atop of this mountain with no way back
Plummeting down is not your greatest fear
Climbed far as you could, but patience you lack.
Turn round in circles and stare out in awe
At the distant beauty, out of your reach
You worked hard to climb… That’s your greatest flaw.
You want to go back. Practice what you preach.
This vain journey set you so far away
When supposed to bring you farther ahead
Nothing is ever quite what’s portrayed
Your foot slips in rage at all that misled.
Screaming, reaching for a new tomorrow
May the last man overdose on sorrow.

The Never-Ending Punishment

Shakespearean Sonnet -- 2008

The waves crash and tumble; a midnight storm
Showing no mercy; light so far away
A ship lost at sea… The stars only mourn.
The moon is not worthy to shine today.
The wind speaks of fury, receding not
‘Til sun emerges from empty skylines
And dead, shipwrecked sailors’ lessons are taught
They were too stubborn to notice the signs.
Underestimating waters so vast
Expecting to measure up to the sea
But fear not now; this assumption, their last
You cannot analyze rage when set free.
A mistake in which nothing but death can mend
Don’t try to compare if you can’t see the end.

Pride

Shakespearean Sonnet -- 2008

The walls of dignity separate life
Between what is truth and what is too far.
Each side holds a villain, grasping his knife
The urge to be more becomes who they are.
Both halting at nothing to reach the top
Thinking of only themselves, nothing more
What once was controlled will now never stop;
These walls let in nothing but vain-driven gore.
Arrogance burns like a fire with fuel
All of their vigor exerted from hate
Pushing them both to an unwanted duel.
Foes fear not t’other, but how they relate.
They’ll fight, and not notice the sky turning grey
‘Til neither are villains, instead, are prey.

Autumn Ashes

Short Story -- 2007

            He'd been sick for months. I just never expected God to take something so precious; the only thing that made the future a little brighter. I never thought He'd completely turn the light out on me. Though sometimes it felt close to darkness, Christian was always the dim glow at the end of the tunnel that kept me reaching- slowly getting me by, day by day. But now, as my feet flew from underneath me and over the dead autumn leaves, it was so black in my mind that I couldn't tell up from down. For that mystery alone I kept running. I was too weak to do anything else.

            The trees were the beautiful, brilliant colors of fall - Vermont is famous for that. The bright reds and deep oranges crunched underneath my feet and hung over my head. There was hardly any light filtering through the treetops, though I knew that in only a few days the leaves would all fall and anyone would be able to see the grey, dismal sky above them. The foliage was only a disguise, I realized sadly.

            Twigs snapped and cracked beneath me as my feet thudded on the ground and there was the faint buzz of a woodpecker nearby, but the near-silence was almost more than I could bear. I sobbed harder and ran faster.

            It felt as though I was running toward the light, but I couldn't quite find it. I knew just where this trail led. Though I wasn't sure if that's where I wanted to be going, it was where I needed to be. I did not need to stay on the path much longer, I knew; it would soon come to an end, opening up to my destination. I even recalled walking down this trail with him, so close... We thanked God together that He'd blessed us with each other; that we were best friends. The odd-colored rock, where we sat and looked at the sky countless times, flew by me in a copper blur but the memories remained clear as day. I couldn't stop- I had to keep running. He'd promised on dozens of occasions that he would take me four-wheeling on this very path, in the middle of the woods, and I'd rejected just as many. He knew my fear of four- wheelers was almost the equivalent of my fear of death- I was terrified, and he understood about little Emily. My childhood best friend, killed in an accident on the same piece of machinery. But he wanted to help me get over it...said he wouldn't let anything happen to the two of us. He would do anything to make me happy; he did not want me to be afraid.

            But still he could not prevent the endless nightmares; the visions that flashed through my head while I slept. Though I hadn't been there to witness the accident, still I could see the vehicle, slipping off the side of the ravine...little Emily, being crushed under the weight of it. The whole incident was so unfair; I still cannot imagine how her father must feel, coming out with barely a scratch. He was the one who took her out- though she resisted, he insisted. He must feel so responsible- that's understandable. Feeling responsible for the death of someone you love can eat you up inside. Guiltily I remembered that after the incident, I hadn't so much as talked to her parents... I was too afraid; afraid of facing how much they hurt, along with me. Chris was always there, and he understood. He was always trying to protect me; shield me from anything suggesting fear.

            What was there to be afraid of now, though? Certainly not death. I pulled the little bottle from my pocket and struggled- once, twice, three times- to remove the cap, finally released it, and poured a handful of tiny, round objects into my hand as my cheeks burned hotter, my eyes swelled puffier and my mascara ran blacker. Almost forgetting where I was, I started to slow down. I snapped back into reality once I saw the mud covering my shoes and the trees on each side of me. I knew I had to keep moving; subconsciously, my legs obeyed and I broke into a sprint. The pills he had convinced me to get so many weeks ago, when I'd first learned of his infirmity, sat in my palm.

            Neither of us had ever liked to call me "sick." Though depression was an illness, it just didn't seem like the right word. He was always there for me, and he could see through the fake smiles and forced laughs that I displayed during the day. He was there in the middle of the night, when I would call him, sobbing, seeking relief from my pain. He would whisper to me, and tell me everything was going to be alright. Nothing was really wrong; I just felt so...hopeless, so small. Christian was the only one who could make me feel worth something. Although I was rarely happy, he never stopped trying to change it. He hated seeing me hurt, and finally persuaded me to tell my parents about my situation. From there, they sent me to a therapist who almost immediately prescribed me the tablets I now clutched in my fist. I hadn't been on them very long, but they didn't seem to be doing anything. All I knew was that they were extremely dangerous -fatal- if more than prescribed was ingested at a time.

            Chris was so strong- much stronger than I ever was, and probably could be. In the beginning, he'd taken my hand in both of his and asked, "Jennifer Anne, are you afraid of me?”

            I'd laughed, squeezed his hand and replied the answer he was expecting. He then asked if I ever would be. I remember getting nervous and pulling back slightly, but answering "No" for the second time. At that moment I recalled a tear slipping from his eye and onto my parents' suede couch. The next thing I knew my head was on his shoulder and I was crying too, while he told me about the white blood cells attacking his immune system; the disease we have all heard about... the one our friend's friend was diagnosed with a few years ago; the one we thought we knew could never happen to anyone close to us. That one word... leukemia. He painfully described the slim chance of his recovery but promised to pull through for me.

            At first, the signs weren't so noticeable. But then, he started getting tired all of the time and lost a lot of weight. He dropped off the school basketball team, and would never be up to doing much of anything. All in all, he was pretty boring. Then, when he was admitted to the local clinic, we would play Spit (his favorite card game) or watch television in his all-white hospital room. I always bothered him about putting up some posters or something, because the room itself looked almost like heaven. It was too blank, too uniform. It didn't suit Chris at all.

            Just then, I stumbled slightly over a large tree root in the middle of the path. While I caught my balance, I was reminded of the countless times I'd walked through here and stepped carefully over it. How had I missed it? I asked myself. I had been so careful before, and now it was as if there was nothing to be careful of. It doesn't matter if I fall, especially if I can't get back up, I thought. The funny thing was that I didn't really miss him- yet. It was probably just because it hadn't hit me so far, but suddenly I was disgusted with myself. I loved him, and now he was gone forever and I barely realized it; I was nostalgic and numb. I could hardly remember what his face looked like, and that scared me so much. The only thing I was concentrating on was wishing he could be with me again, and having him tell me the same reassuring words that I knew now I'd never hear again.

Christian had said, "You're my best friend, Jen. You'll never lose me. Together, we're infinite. I promise."

            For the next month or two he continued to tell me that and to try to be strong, but by the third month he stopped promising us forever. We both knew it was too painful to hear.

            But now, as I leapt over fallen branches while still clutching the antidepressants in one hand, I realized that the entire time he was sick I'd never thought he might actually leave. It never occurred to me that there was the possibility of losing the best and only thing I had left- the light. Things like that just didn't happen, I remember thinking as I watched my best friend pull through what seemed to be a winning battle at the time. The doctors even let Chris leave the hospital and return home during his state of remission. That was a mistake. It only allowed him to fall quickly (and fatally) ill again, for the last time.

            I saw the place up ahead where the path opened into my destination, and good thing- the pills were starting to rub onto my hand, like the M&Ms we would eat on those countless hot summer days. Right before the end of the trail there was a small circle of black on the ground. I could not allow myself to look at it, for I knew how much pain that would cause. But that didn't prevent the vision of him and me, sitting beside the pile of ashes that was once there- a result of people burning their leaves and dumping them at this very place. A pile never fails to appear, year after year.

            I remember the two of us there, at the edge of the woods and staring into the clearing. Christian had taken a handful of ashes on that beautiful autumn day (what would be two years next month that we visited this place) and rubbed it between his fingers.

            "We will be buried, side by side," he told me. "If we spend our time alive together, it is only reasonable to do the same after."

I had whispered, "But which of us will die first?"

            "It doesn't matter," he replied. "If I go before you do, I'll be waiting by the gates of heaven for you to join me." He then proceeded to draw a tiny black heart on my left wrist with the ash before we walked back home.

            The ashes were long gone, but the reminiscence lingered.

***

            The funeral had ended hours previous, so when I emerged from the trail (without giving a single glance at the barren, empty spot that had once been the ash) and jogged into the back of the cemetery, I was as relieved as possible to find it empty of all life. I slowly came to a halt in front of the freshly dug grave and bore my eyes into the name carved there in stone as well as in my heart. There was no sound but the faint, swirling wind in my ear and my heavy breathing, along with occasional, pathetic little sobs. I dropped to my knees almost automatically. I stayed like that, with my head in my hands, for who knows how long. After a while I gently lifted my face, the numerous prescription drugs still clutched in my fist. I brought that hand to my open mouth and tilted my head backward. It would be so easy, overdosing... But then I subconsciously let out a shrill, quick scream- completely contradicting my original plan, which would have gone smoothly and painlessly if not for what struck me just then.

            My empty hand shot to the ground directly in front of the stone that read,

Christian Robert Tracy

March 7, 1990 - October 4, 2005

15 years of age- forever youthful

Beloved grandson, son, brother, friend

            As my eyes read over the very last word printed in the stone, a jolt was sent though my body and my hand dug deeper into the recently overturned soil. I then dumped the content of my other hand into the newly formed hole and buried it as fast as my shaking body would allow, sobbing loudly all the while. I stared at the place where I had just buried my suicide weapons. This was not how a friend would want a friend to go out, especially not a friend who loved you.

***

            I stood up slowly, and glanced at the countless tombs surrounding me. My breathing had started to go back to normal, and I was no longer weeping. So many loved ones had been buried here, each significant to one person or another. In the future, most people would probably walk right past Chris's headstone without a second glance. I knew, though, that before me lay a savior. Someone who had the ability to save others, even if he couldn't salvage himself. How could I put that to waste? He devoted months at a time trying to rescue me, and I almost threw that all away. I promised him I'd make it; I'd be okay. Because of him, I knew I would be.

            The fiery trees fluttered before me, and I knew they were doing the same behind me as well. I walked away without a single fleeting look over my shoulder. I could almost feel him, right behind me- standing atop my own little burial ground, right above his. I made my way back toward the path- toward the ashes. He was watching me go, and I could nearly tell he was smiling. His job was done. He knew I was going to survive.