“Red Sky”


If you take my hand and/

Just let it all out/

You’ll see the calm after the storm/

And a blue sky/

You won’t need this anymore/

Although it’s metaphor/

I speak the truth/

I saw it in you/


The snow reminds me of summer/

When you left without a sound/

So cold without you around/

Then it was dreadfully sunny/

Like back when stupid wasn’t funny/

So good ’cause I was dumber/


Thinking about that night I saved your life/

With a simple song, I know/

Good thing you had a piano/

Under the moon, on the telephone/

And in the end a dialtone/

Comforted you more than a knife/


The sky glowed red in the morning/

I took warning/

My poor lamb is what I saw/

All cut up in the lion’s jaw/

Pale against the crimson sky/

So many lies, I think that’s why/

You felt you had no choice but fly away/

—modified chorus—

I reached for you hand and/

Just let it all out/

Too late to calm the storm/

And the red sky/

You won’t need this anymore/

Although it’s metaphor/

I see the sky is torn/

The finale of your storm/

Adopted Love

I know I already posted (a much-needed update) today, but I found this old fiction short piece and felt it belonged here.  Enjoy!

Adopted Love

The world rushed by in the form of a narrow hallway packed with people.  Everything blurred through Tezu’s tears.  He weaved through the faceless white coats to room 208.  Through the door and behind the curtain two white beds stood awkward yet belonging, vulnerable among machines.  Approaching the bed on the left side, Tezu sat carefully as not to disturb its sleeping occupant.  Jerry had never looked liken this before: so small and sick.  A machine measures his heartbeat, pulsing, dropping, repeating.  It told his life story.  Jerry had his ups and downs, but in the end nothing ever changed.  Pulse, drop, repeat.

Tezu reached for a tissue on the bedside table, pushing away “Get Well” cards, all apologetic, from his siblings who were studying abroad.  He knew they had no control over the situation, but with one parent already gone Tezu had thought Rachel and Dan would come.

Nose sniffling, tears flowing, Tezu gently grasped his adopted father’s hand.  He felt the wrinkles, baggy and smooth, that normally wouldn’t be there for another couple years.  He followed the pattern of his scrub up to his face and neck.  Tezu thought his father’s appearance reflected his age.  His grey beard was uneven, evidence he had been sleeping for some time.  His eyes and mouth looked warm even when he was asleep, his aura always active. Jerry was always smiling, but somehow never at Tezu.  Jerry’s breathing quickened, the heart monitor jumped, and the sick man awoke: Recovering, smiling, welcoming.