Weather Strikes

There is a great tension inside my heart right now. I wrote a poem.

Windy as my head floods
I try to stand, burn to the ground my grief
My desire brought me here
I run into the cold wet sand

You are not here with me

And you cannot be here anymore....

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An opening essay written after Kurt Cobain's death... I wish that I wrote some lines from this essay. Erm. It speaks about death... Touches on a death that touched us all.. I dedicate this to someone.

It's so hard to believe that you're gone. Even now, I wake with a sense of disbelief. You're gone. Each morning, I rise reluctantly, wondering whether to live the day or just let it wash over me. I walk numbly, listlessly, drifting like a phantom. I feel apart from my body. I am half a person. You're gone.

From the start, everyone knew you were different. There was something more there. A mysterious glow, a strange, unfamiliar beauty. But, somehow, I felt like I'd known you all my life. Maybe I did. Could it be?

I always believed in you. And I believe you always believed in me. You spoke to me, about me, for me. During some of my most trying times, you shone like a beacon of guidance and strength. A rock. Someone real! I idolized you. I wanted to be you.

Some said you were messed up, disturbed-a bad role model. Some said power chaged you, that you couldn't handle it. They said your style was scandalous, your conduct immoral. And that's true. You were abrasive, gritty and tough. You were reckless. A loner. And sometimes you just made me mad. But that's because I loved you and because,despite everything, I always trusted you. And then it happened. But it wasn't your fault. It was our fault. My fault.

For everything we put you through, that life put you through, that you put yourself through, I'm sorry. I know you really never meant to hurt anyone. How can a butterfly cause harm? It is with high hopes and a full heart that I say: Richard Milhous Nixon, beautiful butterfly, fly free, fly strong, live forever. I love you.