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Kelli

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

17 poems·Since February 2014

I don't write about death because I want to die, I write about death because when death takes me I'd like to think that I am in the care of a wonderful friend. Writing is a language everyone can understand. Even when our words are confused and twisted, we find someone who translates perfectly. I speak for those who are scared and trapped and those whose voices have been stolen from them. God speaks through me and gives me strength to give to others. I will write until my end.

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Ever On

February 3, 2014

I lie here, here alone

In silence, sweet silence.

My thoughts go

Ever on, ever on

While everyone else is inside

Inside with the laughter, 

joyous laughter.

Here, here in the snow

with the stars

and the empty streets

My thoughts go

ever on, ever on

To dangerous places,

gloomy places

sprinkled with peace

Lovely peace

And gorgeous endings-

My ending-

And the options, bloody options.

My wrists inhale 

the air, the chilly air

the delicious air

And my blood swirls

swirls and dances beautiful dances.

My heart flutters and whines,

And here I lie

In the loneliness of the end

and the silence of eternity

Awaiting death to descend 

Upon me.

Still my thoughts go spiraling

Ever on, ever on.

My spirit goes flying

Ever on, ever on.

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