Pretend I'm Screaming This

Grace

It was after Grace left that I began to notice the greyness in things.

The way the clouds in winter would turn the ocean bland.

How my mother's own meals became smaller but ours grew.

And everything seemed to be a little more empty

Because when I told her she existed in every rock and wave and cloud,

I meant it.

She existed in every locker combination and pencil sharpener shaving.

Every laugh that echoed just a bit too loud and every cigarette butt that was left to burn itself out where the teachers couldn't see.

And although she disappeared as quickly as she arrived,

With no whisper of where she was going or where she had come from,

She still existed in the mind and soul and memory of the people she talked to

And smiled at,

And even just walked past.

Its not often you find someone that can touch the imagination of every person with just a smile and an old poetry book,

But god knows Grace could.

And maybe that's why I couldn't get her out of my head for months after the missing flyers went up.

I spent nights sitting in that all night café drinking shit coffee,

And remembering her hair like hot cocoa,

Her eyes like neon lights in Vegas,

How she danced like someone twirled their fingers and she followed.

And wondered why she couldn't have taken me with her.

What I wouldn't give to have my face beside hers on the photos around town,

Or hitch hiked our way to wherever she wanted.

But I was reminded of what she told me the night she left.

Grace was temporary,

As was everything she surrounded herself with.

And it was the knowing that she had a time limit that forced her to see the beauty in everything

And appreciate it as much as possible.

I just wish that she would of had to stay a while longer,

So that I could try and find a piece of her that wasn't irresistible.