Time To Move On.

Past has come an gone.
Words are said.
Tears run from my eyes.
Life is set into motion.

Change occurs with and without me.
Senses heighten.
Friends come and go.
Life is set in motion.

Motion forward and back,
Moving through time.
Age and experience carve lines in my face.
Life is set in motion.

Thoughts transition bad to good.
Needs transition between wants and desires.
Changes physical mold by being.
Life is set in motion.

I grow.
I move.
I transit the spaces on these paths.
Life is set in motion.

The being within.
Now the person I see.
The woman I love.
Life is set in motion.

It is me.
I set this life in motion.

Shadows Fade

Shadows Fade
I look in the mirror.
Shadows fading in a new light.

I look in to my heart.
Warmth and compassion resonate in every beat.

I look in to my soul.
Life and fulfillment anchoring foundations.

I look at the world.
All is new and everything is possible.

I look at love.
Lost for a time, but waiting and strong.

I look through new eyes.
I see shadows fade with every new day.

Suicide – Thoughts of – TDOR

For the first time in my life I have thought about being dead. I have never thought about actually killing myself. But I have weighed the consequences of the end. I cried so hard after realizing what I was thinking about. It scared me… it has upset me profoundly. For the first time in my life I think I really understand why someone would kill themselves.

Everything just keeps stacking up. Little by little. One becomes tired and withdrawn. One becomes trapped within the pain that is so great the ONLY way to stop it is to die. The outside forces keep beating and beating one down until there is nothing left but a corpse. Every person’s tolerance for emotional and physical pain is different. Everyone experiences life completely different. But what really drives someone to that ultimate moment. Is there one defining moment. Or is it just the weight of it all sitting precariously on the shoulder until that moment when the legs collapse form the weight.

She opened the drawer to her nightstand, the pale brown bottle of sleeping pills sit harmlessly under the child-proof lid. The long dried tears and runs of makeup down her face are the only signs of life once lived…. as she lies down a long forgotten calm quiets her breath. She comforts herself in the warm down comforter. The sun is shining and the sky is filled with blue… everywhere blue. But the beauty is gone. She sees only darkness. Her soft long hair gently spreads out over the pillow. She has put on her favorite nightgown. It is antique white silk with delicate lace and trim. It is old and worn but it is her favorite. As she closes her eyes, she gently and briefly smiles.

Something remembered?

She gently and silently stops breathing… her heart slows… it stops. Her skin goes blueish white and cold. She is gone. The pain is gone.


What pain is so great that one must die to cease its consumption of the mind and body?
Did she kill herself because she thought it was best for her?
Did she kill herself because it was the only way to get back at others?
Was being alive such a terrible thing?
Was her existence really meant to be?

I wish I knew why she did it. She left us all with no answers. No physical scars or bruises, her beautiful body shapely and soft. Only we can’t see what is inside. I remember her saying how everything kept falling apart. She hinted of the pain of all the hurtful words. The relentless torments. But they were just words right? They cant hurt you.

Or maybe it was something else. She mentioned her financial situation was bleak, jokingly saying she would be on the street soon then she would not have to pay that overpriced rent anymore. I noticed she had lost weight… had she stopped eating? The cupboards were bare except for green tea and crackers.

I’m not too clear on this right now. I.. I am still numb that she is gone. My own tears still drying along my cheeks. Her family and friends had abandoned her, but she had me. She had the others. Loneliness and depression were always a part of her life. I came too late to ease her pain.


On this day of Transgender Remembrance we honor those who have died, were murdered, for being different. Killed for being themselves even in the face of all those who apposed. But I can’t help but now think how many more were driven to their own end for being different. How far can a person be pushed emotionally before they snap?

It is often the dozens of little things that will bring down the strongest. A reed may bend in the wind. But pour over it grains of sand… in time it will fail too.

When does life begin?

Flowers for the Dead. No funeral. No wake. No Memorial. Simply death of the living.
Flowers for the Dead. No funeral. No wake. No Memorial. Simply death of the living.
I died this year.
But I was never dead.
I passed into some strange history, old memories.
Yet I am still here.

My passing was sudden and unexpected.
But still, I am here this very moment, never having departed.
People have and are morning the loss of me.
I never left them all the time still standing before their eyes.

Yet I died this year.
Only months have passed.
I do not feel this loss of me.
I only feel the loss of others who let me go.

Now I am dead.
But my corpse does not decay.
Every moment breathing, heart beating, thoughts fleeting.
Is this what it is like to die?

I have watched them leave.
One by One.
I saw the signs of death.
Yet I could do nothing to stop it.

I am living with death each day.
I am invisible and forgotten.
But my eyes still see those who buried me.
My heart still feels the love I never gave up.

I died this year.
So when does life begin?

why do i cry?

why do I cry?
is the pain so great it can only escape my soul as tears?
is the joy so complete I must share it in my eyes?

the tears roll down my cheeks, daily it seems.
they evaporate and spread like the mist over the ocean.
the tears forever streaming, day and night.
they carry my joy, my pain, my sorrow, my thoughts and my love out in to the world.

why do I cry?
is there no more room for what is building inside?
is there no need to keep what is hidden or precious in my mind?

the tears for my love are filled with her memories.
they lesson the pain with each day, yet the memories are sill there.
the tears of my love are seeds to be planted.
they grow in numbers and are spread by the winds.

why do i cry?
is this the way I must travel to feel what is past, what may have been?
is this how I search for what lay dormant inside for so very long?

the tears come unpredictably now, randomly seeking to be born.
they are my only connection with something within.
the tears fall like rain then a mist, a thought, picture, smell or a sound triggering the flow.
they contain all things I have stored in my thoughts, seem in my life, lost in my heart.

why do I cry?
no answers only questions, have I not come far enough?
have I lost my way or grown somewhere deep, somewhere I cannot yet see within my soul?

The answer is obvious l LOVE, HATE, FEAR and feel JOY. Goddess what else?… there must be so, so much more. But is it really that clear so black and white so irrefutable as to be called the truth?

I never knew how to cry my entire life until I set myself free.
Now I am free. I guess something hidden within my being still needs to be too. I tortured myself looking for the key to unlocking my tears. The answer was within me all the time. I never let myself see it. Why did it take so long, half a lifetime almost, to open that door? I am filled with so much now that my freedom is real. Now that I have chosen to live. I have chosen to feel.

why do I cry?
simply,  I have let myself live, let myself feel everything around me.
because I can take it all inside, the compassion, the love, empathy, every single experience real or perceived.

these tears I set free because they must not stay inside.
they are my gift to the world, my offerings to the universe.
these tears are only mine until I pass them on.
they are my gift to you and to myself, proof of life, a life finally living.

On the Eve of a New Life – the Poem.

I am here now she says.
My thoughts of life.
My dreams are living.
My world is lucid.

I am here now she cries.
My thoughts of the past.
My regrets soft and deep.
My pain stabbing my heart.

I am here now she laughs.
My life is beginning.
My soul is set free.
My love is waiting to fly.

I am here now she screams.
My world is my own.
My emotions so real.
My tears are like rain.

I am here now she whispers.
My gentle voice speaks.
My body softens and flows.
My wish is come true.

I am here she says.
And no one can ever take that away.

Flying High

by Nichole Shannon

Where a heart was once empty and torn,
an other fills the void and heals the wounds.

A newly reborn soul now filled by the warmth
flies free in the clouds.

No boundaries, no limits, no confines to contain it.
Its wings spread wide and catch the rising warmth.

The heart drifts upwards to the distant heavens.
Carrying the soul to meet its mate.

They meet in the heavens,
soaring above the world together at last.

Two hearts as one soaring towards infinity.
Two souls bound and flying free.