Dear God,
She was like rain
After a drought
Or the morning after you get over an illness.
She was refreshing.
Dear God,
She had never not worked a day in her
Life.
I remember waking up at one
In the morning,
Alone,
And finding she'd fallen asleep,
Leaned over journals,
And in the morning she would tell me
That she had meant to make it to bed and
She promised next time she would.
Dear God,
She was my artist.
Her mind was like the Amazon,
Filled with rambunctious colour and life,
New breath imagined every day,
Brimming with creation.
But sometimes it rained,
As what often happens in rainforests;
A heavy
Endless
Storm.
Dear God,
Her mother is a cynic and her dad is gone;
Wasted and wasted
Away.
And I think that sometimes she blamed herself
Because
She saw it as a parasite,
And she saw it within herself.
Dear God,
Sometimes,
When her body could no longer withstand her mind,
I would lie with her for days
And tell her that she was good.
Dear God,
I feel like I betrayed
Her when I told her she was good.
Not because I was lying,
But because she believed me,
And I think that made her hurt more.
Dear God,
She was the epitome of
Wonder.
Every word she spoke
Was poetry.
And oh god, I listened to her poems for hours.
Dear God,
I miss her poems.
Dear God,
I have tried to read her words again;
I search for her journals only to store them
In the closet.
I cannot read her words;
They sound too much like the suicide note she did not leave.
Dear God,
I have never not worked a day in my life,
And my rainy artist was not
The only one to promise to make it to bed the next night.
And my mom has been torn down,
And my dad is a cynic,
And I have done everything in my power
To be something other than them.
Dear God,
I am a torn down,
Wasted and wasted away
Cynic.
I have become cowardice and small,
And I have forgotten the way
My beautiful, rainy artist's breathe escaped
Her mouth in the winter.
I have forgotten the way she laughed when
I make a bad joke.
Dear God,
You made us, and
In that, you are an artist too.
And I wonder if your mind gets dark sometimes as well.
And I wonder if why in that darkness,
Bad things happen to good people.
