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Yes, Brandon, thanks to you

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Walking

You cut open my heart,
with the knife I put in your hand.
I'm not angry,
though I'm bleeding,
just a little sad.
I'd hoped to make my way through life,
without so deep a gash,
but life is life,
and so this happens,
and all I can do is crash.
I'll limp away from this reck,
and walk again, you'll see.
I might be sad, and I will be hurt,
but I'll always be ok.
I've made myself to survive,
and that's what I shall do.
Jagged wound and shattered heart,
I'll walk along without you.
And keep on going till Death comes looking,
and claims my darkened soul.

Saying Goodbye

It's a strange thing: saying goodbye. It's something we can't stand doing most of the time. Everyone acts happy, as if things will be ok. At least until we're all alone and we've reached the end of the day. At that point, the feelings flow out and the pain washes in. We can't stop thinking of the ones we love and the places we've been. We think of everyone we have become accustomed to seeing every day. And everyone we say hello to when we are on our way to class or work or home or the store. We think of every goodbye we've said and wonder how many more we'll have to endure. We pretend we'll see them again, and some of them we will. But those we know we probably won't, cling more violently to our minds. And even those we may see, the seeing won't be the same. Even if we see them again, our lives are forever changed. Humans adapt to change. Our species always has, but for as long as History has recorded, we have never liked the transition period.