Krystal

February 26, 2008
By Ka Mayfield, Kalispell, MT

Death.
It forms an icy cocoon
Around your heart.
Black ice.
You can’t see it, but you
Slip over it and skid.
It makes other people
Slip and skid
Over your heart.
You can’t let anyone
Touch it beyond the ice.

I remember her.
An explosion of pink
And glitter pulling me
Onto the dance floor
Of life.
Taking a shy girl—
Turning me into
Everything I am.

I hear her voice
In my ear.
She always tells me what to do.
My conscience
She’s always been my
Conscience.
Her laugh is still ringing
Everywhere.
A fairy’s giggle.

When I close my eyes I can
See her.
Gold hair, bright eyes.
Everywhere she goes
Glows.
Everything she touches
Sparkles.








I remember crying.
Sitting for an hour,
Sobbing.
Precious young woman
Vanished.
Just like that.
Gone in a white flash.

Death has a funny way
Of waking you up.
Love has a funny way
Of dragging you down.
“Don’t cry,” I can hear her now.
Her crystal necklace
Sending rainbows,
Shattering the ice.
“Don’t cry, I’m still here.”
She’s still here.


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