Evelyn's Poetry
Evelyn's Poetry
Evelyn loved to write. We were't aware nearly how much until after her death, when we found her computer and phone were full of poetry she'd been writing for years without us knowing. The first two poems came to us from a friend of Evelyn's, who found them in her journal the day after Evelyn died and immediately brought them to the house to share with us. Upon reading them, we were blown away. Here, in her own words, our sweet girl was telling us how to go on, how to view her unbelievable loss. We read them both at her memorial service, and had the first printed on the programs for it. We will continue to add her work to this page for others to enjoy, though it will take time to get the whole of it online. Where we have them, we have included dates. Please check back and continue to share how Evelyn's work has impacted you.
Breathe
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Breathe in. This is the one thing, the one thing that you can do and it doesn't have to be stressful, just peace in this piece of knowledge. To just be and breathe, to just breathe and be, to just be breathing, and content with being and breathing. You always, forever have this if you have nothing else or want nothing else until the day you no longer have to be and breathe.
Breathe out. Because escape is a sweet release, one to be relished, one to be treasured, release from good and bad, happy and sad, escape from the burden on your mind and heart. Nobody can take this escape from you. It's inseparable from your nature and being because it is a part of being. Sometimes you just need to breathe.
Copycat
Scalding water burned my palms
and steam clouded my vision,
allowing today's page to
burn away
and erasing the ideas
of tomorrow.
Inky streams slipped
down the drain
taking with it
doubt and sorrow,
but globs of misperception stain,
so there are always smears
on a new page.
Untitled
Shaky shingles, rattled roof
Collapse upon the poor aloof
Ignorant of time's effect
Idyllic fantasies put to rest
Oh what a simple thing
Simple in complexity
Language, words, connotation
Endless ways to convey
Just one sensation
Barred off
Cut out from the mind
Jagged nerves left to die
Choking on the vile pit
Poisoned fruit you cannot spit
No more
Please, please no more
There's a handle, there's a door
I've never opened before
But I can't
I've been tied at the wrist
Legs unsteady
And tongue in a twist
I hear voices, sweet singing a lullaby
Desperately wish I could give it a try
But no movement, no voice
Gives me no choice
Speech
Halves
Experiences
I’ve never had the same experiences as others
Words wound through my mind
Of heady glances and sticky kisses
Rogue hands and blissful shivers
And in my notes I had painted an image
Of what to expect
But then they kicked the bucket
Thick inky black crawling over lined pages
And told me it was abstract
So I gave a subdued nod
And dipped my hands in the mess
Wondering if the crusted paint
In the lines of my palms
Was meant to mimic
The fullness of love
And slowly, hazily
I found myself half blind
Sinking into the paint on the floor
My right half stolen
My wrong half frozen
Heady glances made me anxious
Sticky kisses left me self-conscious
Rogue hands threw me in fear
And shivers were of the sort
That are only evoked by horror
But they told me it was fine
And truly, I didn’t know the difference
Between moaning in pleasure
And moaning in terror
So I let them lead me blind
But then she took my shoulders
And shook me to the core
Lines clear enough to see
The future in my palms
Turned my world on its head
Just like before
But this time she drug me into the sky
Above the light bulb towers
That convinced me grass is blue
Showed me the truth
In the colors of her paned eyes
And in the wonder of it all
I didn’t see the pages of my notebook
Tearing out and shredding themselves
Confetti to celebrate the sight
Discovering the ecstasy
Of excited gazes and awkward kisses
Warm hands and sweet nudges
That leave me curious and uncertain
Like a child left with tools
And only the instructions to build
Whatever they desire
So no, it still isn’t the same
The bright colors I had scribbled
On the original image
Faded into soft pastels
Like the transcription of a dream into reality
I’ve never had the same experiences as others
But I think I finally realized
That these are the experiences
I’ve been searching for.