Three Poems by Dana Trick

Grieving Paradox

As human,

You only left your life behind.

 

On an indefinite loop,

I continuously fall in the love

Of your works, your worlds, your wonders,

Your heartbeat, your soul, your blood.

 

I want you back so much,

To devour more of your creations,

But that is too selfish of me to even beg for.

 

But no matter how much I hold on to your pieces,

Even when I cry a thousand paper cranes,

You can never come back, really.

 

We’re strangers,

And you’re dead,

But my heart still breaks.

 

I love you

But I didn’t know you,

Yet you gave me everything good in my life.

How To Mourn a Creator

How do you mourn a stranger that meant so much to you?

 

How are you able to cry over someone

Who was just a moment ago a name next to the word “by”?

 

How can you wail and weep over the grave of someone

Whose only communication with you (& many others)

Is through the silent miracle of a drawing, a song, a story, a verse?

 

How dare you demand that they would come back just to continue their work

Just for you,

Denying the tears of their families and friends who need them the most?

 

How does one reconcile when the revelation of their crimes and victims

Speak louder than your love and adoration and flimsy excuses

Because you like something they created?

 

How To Mourn Creator II

When I heard the news,

I refused to believe it,

Wanting today to be more yesterday’s normal,

Yet when the others wail and wept inside their screens,

Then I couldn’t stop the tears.

 

I thought I was mourning you,

A person of words and flowers so beautiful

But really, I didn’t know you at all

And only cried over the broken promises

Of your future flowers, your future songs, your future beauties.

 

You,

Who have spent decades learning and mastering your abilities,

Who is a human being with a mundane life but caring loved ones—

How could I boldly demand of you to come back

Just to create my escape and my comfort,

Never allowing you to return to your life.

I wanted more of you.

 

Too late I realize how I, a stranger—

Who found your flower-songs,

Who worshipped your soul and heart,

Who indifferently saw you as a conveyer-belt of circus-&-bread—

Caused you so much strife and burnout with my greed and gratitude

That sapped your life away.

 

I’m not even worthy of mourning you.

Dana Trick - Born a first-generation Mexican-Canadian-American autistic biromantic-demisexual with ADHD, Dana Trick lives in Southern California where it is clearly foolish to wear black any day. Besides writing, she spends/wastes her day by either reading weird books; researching history because she has a history degree; drawing art and comics that she posts on deviantART under Silencedbook9; and watching cartoons, anime, and Youtube videos. Her work has been published online--Art of Autism, the Lothlorien Poetry Journal, The Kolkata Arts, The Writer Shed, The Writers Club, and The Ugly Writers—as well as in print anthologies: the 2018 Moorpark College Print Review; the Poets’ Choice Realm of Emotions; Other Worldly Women Press’ Behind Closed Doors; Free Spirit’s Historic Tales; Wingless Dreamer’s My Glorious Quill and The Book of Black; Dragoon Soul Press’ Organic Ink Volume 5; and The Ravens Quote Press’ Balm 2. She wishes the reader a nice day.