Silent Car Rides

You're busy admiring the leaves today, forgetting they're not the only ones dropping in the cold.

You didn't see the chapel scraping to fill halfway,
                                            or the heartbreak of people smiling through tears.


There's something morbid about little girls in a graveyard.
Something about pink sweaters against pale bodies and taking roses to take them,
                                                                                                              not to put them on the casket.

I've seen too many funerals in my 18 short years.
The first time I met death was at 7 years old:
and here I thought I paid my dues.

but the painful decay of a hospital is something I haven't learned to deal with,
and I think God will keep giving me silence filled Emergency rooms, until I learn.

the florescent fish in the hallway are the only things that look remotely happy,
but if you take a closer peek, you'll see they're just as miserable as the rest of us.
Cooped up like prisoners in this clown house of grief

Shiny floors and green flashes of life and death. life and death.

 life and death.

Oxygen monitors. Complimentary cheese cubes.
                                                              Questions and prayers that God can't answer.

If you think your few months of college have seasoned you into adulthood,
wait until you hit the grill.

In Loving Memory 

- Jones Kay Christensen -