Every day is a decision.
Tonight, the crickets sing in the bushes,
and I choose to remember you:
dreadlocks flowing and bright face,
smile beaming and that glow you had
even when anxiety tightened
the corners of your shining eyes.
Every day since you passed on
I choose to feel, and choose to mourn.
You left before autumn started giving the leaves
back their true, vibrant colors.
You saw past my surface, down deep
where dark and vibrant colors bloom.
I choose to miss you.
Charisse, sometimes I feel like
my whole life has been me bloodying my hands
trying to tear down walls that won’t budge.
You walked through a door in the wall,
a door I’d never noticed,
and showed me the blue sky I’d ignored.
Everyday, I have a decision:
Do I see the blue sky,
0r the brick wall?
Do I choose faith, or fear?
Do I believe in what you showed me,
or do I run away again, and hide?
to believe you.
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