Like a bird alone in the desert or an owl in a ruined house, I lie awake and I groan. Psalm 130
—-In the midst
of Holiday Cheer, I miss you, my dear.
I want to call you. I
want to hear your voice. I want to meet
for intoxicating coffee & double chocolate cake at Barnes’s & Noble to
discuss literature, love, life.
I want to exchange gifts how we used to do.
Remember when we bought one another the same “Sister” Christmas
….Or the way we finished one another’s sentences?
I want to tell you how heartbreaking it is on earth without
That sometimes, I
feel as if I’m the only person in
the entire damn universe–
….without a sister, without a soul-mate, without–
I want to tell you that I utter the same stories over and
over and over…
until the words become real, until the words absorb every
I still can’t believe it’s been 582 days since you left me.
I want to tell you that in my dreams, I already know about
your murder, but I can’t stop it…can’t fucking
fucking stop it.
“He’s going to kill you,” I scream.
“He’s going to shoot you three times in the back of the head. He’s going to destroy our family.”
But it doesn’t matter a damn.
You don’t believe me.
You continually saw the good in people.
Even in your murderer.
I want to tell you a secret I never knew until now….
—Life goes on.
It goes on regardless.
One day pours into the next.
The heart still beats.
The sun still shines.
The clock still ticks.
The moon still smiles with her head of gold.
I want to tell you so much.
Things nobody else understands.
Things nobody else cares about.
Sometimes in the middle of the night—
I call your name.
Kay Kay Kay
I write a poem…
—My sister Kay was murdered by Mike Peterson 582 days ago—- The sun diminished.
——For support and more information please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or at TTY 1-800-787-3224.
Click here NOW. Do. Not. Wait. One. More. Minute. >>http://www.thehotline.org/get-help/help-in-your-area/