Bri in Philly

I hate it. Grieving. I hate that I can swim better in the waves of grief than in the oceans tides.  … I hate that death is this sick dance that ends when you least expect it. It’s in that moment when your partner (life) leans your body backwards, and in your dip you have enough time to see all that you have, inside the party. All the people. All the memories. All  ‘life’s many moments’… But then before you can pick your head up, death steps in. And the world goes dark. Because life has let you go.  I guess a good question to ask is, “does the party keep going without you?” From this side I’d say yes, but not nearly as enjoyable. Everyone I ever lost was way cooler to party with than without.  So I wish we could unalive death. That way death would stop ruining the party and stop purposely targeting the life of the party.  I wish death had to ask for an invite. I wish we could stand death up. Send death the wrong address. Leave death waiting at the alter. But deat...

Spiri why’d you leave me  My guilt whispers how didn’t you notice the door wasn’t closed completely  My father’s words shouts nothing in life is easy  My faith is what keeps my heart beating that and deep breathing  Spiri do you hear me  Go back inside Spiri  I’m kicking and screaming  It’s too late to say please don’t leave me Life isn’t kind but death she’s the real bitch I don’t like  Spiri don’t die  Especially if you’re not in my arms tonight  You’re causing me to speak out of dark humor And spite  You’re showing me that everything will be alright  Except you leaving  That’s the one that will keep me up at night  When the world sleeps  I’ll be awake replaying my mistakes  I’ll see you hobbling into the light  I’ll know I failed you one too many times  I can’t live without you  But I’ll try  I’ll try for Muri who can’t stop searching for the yin to her yang  You fucked us all up ...

 I don’t welcome death. But I recognize she’s snuck into my home unwelcome. And in her creep, she took sleep on my loved ones. Her dreams too wild for me to fathom, nightmares are too pleasant a way to describe them. 

  And at the end of the day , what divides up perhaps the most is our series of choices. Life is but a series of choices. What made him choose to pick up that gun?  What made me choose to stay home on that same day?  If I hadn’t or he hadn’t we wouldn’t be here. And I was a lucky one. I was one who heard it from the comfort of my own and not able to say my loved ones not coming home.  I only heard it like rapid fire. And I wasn’t clear if it was a firecracker, random popping..or something else before I realized - no. It’s none of those. Despite being sheltered and not quite being atune to the sound of a gun going off (thank god) and or the sound of a gun going orf ‘16 times’ (god is good). It was clearly gunfire. I knew that much.  It was also choices that made me able to be on the outside of the yellow tape, and not in. And some weren’t here. Some stayed back. In the foot of their homes. Which is where I started. Some turned back. Physically making a y turn pro...

  Look here, I never cared about your “you post too much” opinion. Thanks for telling me your life isn’t half as interesting or worse, you don’t have half as much tenacity as it takes to acknowledge and live in the certainty that life and time are finite. That none of us, not even one, will make it out of here alive. That seizing the moment is the most rebellious thing you can do when you know you’ll never ever get the moment again. Don’t take life (mine or yours) so seriously. See you on the other side!