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when I was five and life was a song of
excitement and innocence
the world was full of mystery
and I had never felt
the pain of hurt or loss of
any kind    and then
one day
a playmate pushed me right off the swing
you picked me up   brushed me off
   told me not to cry
‘mommy,’ I said,
‘it hurts’

when I was sixteen and in love for the  first time
to a young Cuban girl I felt like
    an adult doing adult things
dates and kissing and groping
and late-night phone calls with the
cord stretched and twisted through the house
and under my door    and then
one day
she left me for another teenage crush
and I felt world-ending
anguish  burning, hot, consuming
as only a teenager can feel them
you held me close
   told me I’d be ok
‘but mom,’ said I,
‘it hurts.’

when I was thirty-five at the end of my marriage
holding on to it with desperate and futile hands
trying to be a good father to my sons
who put me on a pedestal high enough
to rival the gods
I fought depression
and anger
even as I felt co-dependent longing
for the woman who was
  breaking my heart
there at the end of that marriage
one day
you held your grandchildren
and me
   and told us we’d be ok
‘mom,’ I said
   ‘it hurts.’
  
when I was thirty-eight and dying
from the cancer eating  my body
  repulsed by
the very sight of my
shriveled and sunken body with
chemotherapy eyes set deep
deep inside my skull
and scars on my body finally
making me as ugly in life as I felt inside
I despaired and I grieved
the loss of innocence
in my children and the burden
on my new girlfriend
one day
you sat by my bedside
and held my hand,
  told me the kids
and I
were stronger than I knew
‘but mom’ I said, looking
at their pictures,
‘it hurts.’

when I was forty and strong again,
recovered from cancer
and from divorce
my scars a badge of character and honor
with a beautiful new bride by my side
a new life to live
and a new daughter to love
that day
  you lay in a hospital bed
clinging desperately to life
     machines to monitor
tubes to breath
nurses to care and
doctors to treat
I held your hand, like you always held mine,
  alongside
your daughter (my sister) and
your other son (my brother)
as you breathed your last
even as I
   sobbed at your passing
and fell into the arms of my wife and siblings
I wondered
  selfishly
who now will hold me like you did
like only you could
because oh god, mom
it hurts.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom lately; she passed away in November, 2010.  This is for her.
Let me crash on the shoreline,
the way your tears will collide
with your eyelids and your cheeks.
Let every part of me sink
beneath the uncharted waters,
the way you will drown in grief.
Let me tread the ocean floor
and leave imprints on the sand,
the way I have left you mine
upon the deepest part of your heart.

Let me stay –
Even if it’s just my ghostly figure,
even if it meant looking at same star
from a different angle, from a different universe.
Let me stay with you.
So much emphasis on time.
We spend our lives counting time.
Rolling wheels to the next road sign.
Yet we sometimes forget.
*That its all in our minds
The desire of something you used to have will fade,
But the desire of something you've never had never goes away.
It happened all at once.
You remained the same reasons of brokenness and love.
And I couldnt change it.
I'd rather have days of both misery and bliss than having days without you.
I think of you oftentimes like a madness killer.
Figuring out what kind of death you will die in my memories.
But everytime I did, I slowly dying.
Those memories were the only thing I owned.
And I dont want a world without you.

Does you think of me as well? I know you wont.
But I love you in every heartbeat and my mind could think.
 Jun 2015 Nan Trapp Messer
Monika
The other day,
a man driving on the wrong side of the road
crashed into a pick up truck, killing himself instantly.
It reminds me of how you'll leave.
Lately, I've found myself drifting onto the left lane
and it makes me wonder about all of the people
that have died this way,
if they just couldn't tell their left from their right
or if they, too, were trying to go back to the past.
Talk is cheap but still feels too expensive.
when did my heart and mind end on the for-rent list.
I would play you any song but only disappointment is on the set list.
I'll ask the genie at the bottom of the bottle for that last wish.

I might always be sad, but you'll never not be a liar
I hope these things come to you in those lonesome hours
I'm still buring with all of my passion
But worthless were my words and actions.
You get what you give, all you do is take
I hope I see the day your skeleton crumbles and your bones break.
somewhere
on unending
back roads of Nebraska
I left behind the ghost of my
cancer
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