Goodbye Again

Your life was short,

But your love was grand.

Here by you I no longer stand.

Now, I must go on without holding your hand.

No more days together will we lay.

The ache in my heart takes my breath away.

My final hope is for all my memories of you to continue to caress me with the words you used to say.

The world without you has become a muted gray.

Alive, I struggle to feel.

Without you, nothing seems real.

I am stuck in an existence that is only surreal.

Drowning in a sea of pain, I fear I will always remain.

Life without you. My smile just refrains.

My love for you shall not wane.

HEARTACHE! Please someone restrain!

One breath at a time.

That is where my hope for tomorrow will now lie.

With loving, meant to be helpful hands, please do not pry.

Sometimes my only solace is when I cry.

If you want to challenge my pain, please feel free to give my anguish a try.

Too many unimportant things do we rely.

Too often without even goodbye.

The pressure upon my chest. My life vest from the nothingness.

Many lyrics spewed about death’s callous thievery.

To you. Again, this may be cliché, passé.

But in my mind, my haunted dreams try to find escape.

My heart remembers. My soul wants to surrender.

These last words. My only consolation.

Waiting for the time to go by.

Waiting for the day the pain will subside.

And with your kiss I will abide.

© 2012 Elizabeth Rockhill

Olympian

What is it to spend one’s life waiting for just one day?

The day when it’s up to you with the whole world watching.

To prove that you have what it takes to outdo the best.

Watching in awe as these amazing Olympians perform,

I know one day that will be me.

I may only be a kid, but I see my victory.

I may only be a kid, but this desire in me to compete will knock most on their feet.

I’ve traded in play dates for practices.

Lightheartedness for discipline and dedication.

My motivation remains those five rings.

I do not see my dedication as a sacrifice because I believe.

I know I can.

Years have passed.

My family has given up so much for me.

They support me as I dream to compete.

The pressure builds as I think of the things that they let go.

This dream is no longer just about me.

With all that they do, it has become our collective vision.

To finally arrive. The five rings in sight.

My dream should be appeased just to compete,

But nothing less than first seems good enough.

In the eyes of the hundreds surrounding me, I see the same desire.

Some of us will succeed, but too many of us will lose.

It should be enough to make it so far, but we all know it’s not.

The student. The teacher.

My coach keeps me a believer.

The nights we sacrificed away from our families.

Sad, frustrated, and hurt at times.

Our fears, our hopes, and our dreams come down to this next breath.

The sacrifices of his children’s laughter.

The arguments over the time his family lacked.

They are all here.

With my win, their sacrifices allow them to share in.

The time has arrived. My time to take flight.

The seconds beat a hammer against my heart.

Some believe that I can succeed.

Others hope for my defeat.

In this moment, the world is looking upon me.

But I block them out.

I focus on my next step.

One last deep breathe.

Only my tunnel of competition is left.

Like a machine.

With this last breath and my quick blink,

History will know the rest.

The only voice that I carry with me during the rest of my steps,

May not be my father, my mother, my sister or my brother.

My coach is my believer.

His words of encouragement pushing me forward.

The deep-fitted commands.

The tough words accepting nothing less than perfection.

The horse-remnants of his voice cheering me to my finish.

The record.

The line unattained in so long.

So close and so far.

The finish is unfounded.

My tears begin to surround me.

Whose anthem will we hear when we head to the podium?

Proud to be standing even in third,

But we all feel the pain inside for the one standing in third with first so close.

For the ones, who fell lame and limped across the finish line.

Against each other we compete, but in each other we find sympathy.

And at the moment I discover, I will stand the tallest.

I will hear the anthem being played for me.

Gold!

© 2012 Elizabeth Rockhill