Kites

by Angela Kempe

Some loves are lost,

 Like kites in the wind.

You see colors fading,

And know it will end.

 

You pull the string tighter,

 But still it unwinds.

You try to hold on,

But the wind is unkind.

 

The kite bends,

And tail streamers swirl.

It circles around,

In a perilous twirl.

 

You hold the line tight,

Yet it comes to its end,

The kite becomes heavy,

And starts to descend.

 

So you let it loose.

Letting go felt so natural.

It was what the wind wanted.

The idea seemed admirable.

 

The kite tumbles downhill,

Slamming against dirt and grass,

Cracking at the spine.

You run to it,

Your hair trailing behind.

 

Is it still beautiful?

Will it fly?

Can it ever be what once was?

 

When you find it,

The kite is mangled.

Love is lost,

 Broken,

Pieces that fit poorly in the trash.

 

So you call it a friendship,

And refrain from all that was.

Passion, color, beauty, love.

All the things that come with that simple memory

of flight.

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If You Loved Me

byAngela Kempe

 

I thought that we,

Had what we need.

I would love you,

You would love me.

What are these dreams,

crumbling?

It’s as it seems,

Tumbling.

What could we be,

If you loved me,

Like I do?

 

I promised you,

You promised me.

We promised us,

All we could be.

But you loved you,

And I loved me.

Now you are gone,

I am set free.

What could we be,

If you loved me,

Like I do?

The Disappearing Man

by Angela Kempe

It happened again. Jake was rummaging through the fridge the first time when it happened. He thought it was a hallucination and called his therapist who referred him to a Psychologist who put him on Paxil. Jake was getting used to the fact that he was disappearing. Sometimes as he sat on his sofa, he’d watch his hand vanish while he pet his dog. One time he vanished so much he rushed over to the bathroom and got on the scale, just to make sure he was still there. The scale read thirty-two pounds. He told his therapist everything, but she didn’t seem to care. Maybe she’d heard it all. Maybe he was just disappearing to her as well.

Often when Jake disappeared he’d start to have a panic attack. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His face would drain of blood and his hands would get clammy. The meds helped a little with the breathing, but they didn’t seem to help with becoming invisible.

“Can you still see me?” he asked his dog.

Buster was used to him. When it first happened, he’d fill the house with his ear-piercing barks. He’d press his long black body into his paws and look up at Jake with his tail wagging madly. But Buster was used to him by now. He shifted his body at the sound of Jake’s voice as he laid by the couch and then went back to sleep.

But Jake wasn’t accustom to being gone. Jake ran to the bathroom mirror and watched his face closely in the smudged glass. He could barely make out the details of his body. His reflection stared back at him like a faint pencil sketch. The contours rippled like shadows on a water surface. He tried to remember the details of his face before they went. He had never paid attention to his lashes or the small bumps on his skin before, but somehow they had become important now that they were vanishing. How many eyelashes did he have? What was the true color of his lips? Jake felt a heaviness in his lungs again. He tried to calm himself and force a breath passed the asthmatic feeling he had. Then it happened.

Jake tried to put his hands on the sink, but they fell right through the porcelain. He searched for himself in the mirror. The reflection only showed the bathtub behind him and the tiled walls.

“Help!” he shouted, frantically.

He cried, but couldn’t feel any tears run down his cheeks.

 

Suzy searched the playground for a man in the distance. She thought it was her father and stood up from the sandbox with her dirty barbie in hand. But before she could run to him, she started wondering. What did Daddy look like? She couldn’t remember anymore.

Beautiful

by Angela Kempe

The Alps carved the skyline with its frosty jagged edge, laying across the soft blue of the sky like torn decoupage. I shivered a little in my long white dress, kicking at the dirt with my cowboy boots and hiding my cold hands in the pockets of my white knit sweater. The dusty trail overlooked a grassy meadow, and I could see a few Swiss cabins and some trees gently adorning the majestic landscape while the snowy mountains towered above them.

I stared into the eyes of my husband. His face was worn and tired from years of raising a family, but his smile was still as bright as a child’s as he gazed lovingly back at me.

“We made it,” he said.

The children were already fidgeting restlessly. Timmy was wiggling in his suit like a worm and Grace had slowly started inching towards the rocks. They were too young to really understand, but for me it was a new commitment. A commitment to another ten years of life, and this time maybe we’d be more mature and ready for it. This time we might not rush into things. We’d bring our total selves and somehow it might be better.

“I love you for who you are and who you will become. In sickness and in health, I will love you unconditionally and forgive you without reservation. I promise to be a friend to you and to journey through this life together as your partner. I will listen to you and respect you. And as your equal, I will share my spirituality and the lessons I learn in life. I will lift you up when you can no longer stand and smile proudly as you achieve your dreams. I know that life has ups and downs, and I will be with you through all the highs and lows, so that we may one day look back at this great accomplishment: our lifetime commitment to each other.”

John slipped the ring over my finger. I had sent for it to be custom made. It had our original diamond in the middle and our children’s birthstones on either side. Ten small diamonds representing our ten years of marriage were set around the main diamond. And as John held my hand, the ring caught the morning light and sparkled.

In my mind it was beautiful. In my mind everything was perfect. I turned the ring in my hand as I looked out the airplane window. Why couldn’t he commit to me like I did him? I thought.

“Mommy,” Grace said, nudging my arm.

A tear streamed down my cheek.

“Are we ever going to see Daddy again?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said and took her hand. “But it will be different now.”