If we don’t force you
A staggering loss
Beauty is fleeting
If you only choose to see
The beauty in youth
It has been a while
But I knew you would return
Help me, she cried out
I can’t make this ride slow down
Here is a body
I’ve had many lives
She said, tracing her fingers
Across the dusty bookshelf
Steadfast at my feet
Soft warm fur, a gentle snore
Friendship without words
By Oakley Roberts
I open my wound
And pour it on to paper
white with fear, I write.