by creamsikkle

On Wednesday January 11th, my friend Carol Anne Stamper died in a car accident. My very close friend Ashely, was driving. My life will never be the same. After the incident, I wrote about it. Now I am ready to post this. I’ve tried to explain loosing a person to people, but the one word I always say is raw. Death is raw, and you don’t understand until it hits that close to home.


the crisp of fresh January gives me the metallic, regretful feeling

that arises

at the back of my throat.


I feel her wide eyes as she stops short

the empty expression forever plastered behind gut wrenching sheets


and I see her screams carved and scratched

with care

into the unforgiving earth


I stand beside you numb and silent

agape and raw

you can feel my heart on the tips of my fingers.

as you writhe and struggle for her

and realize, I am there with you

gripped by the chilled hand of a bastardous reality

who dares steal from us


he is cruel,

and smirks

teasing your insides, and tugging my windpipe.

it gives way and rips

and bleeds into itself,

my uneven tears sting what remains, after restless nights before

spent so painfully alone; that such fragile life cannot endure

and longing for true mourning and rebirth

that are truly not an option


the crisp of fresh morning gives me the metallic, regretful feeling

that arises

at the back of my throat, as I wake

the cracked salt on my cheeks and twisted blankets leave eyes swollen

and head sore

heavy with memories

I had never recalled until now


I no longer can appreciate things how they are


I want nothing

I only want the thing I am incapable of

I will never reach you


as I could before


The Black Parade in the sky

marches and plays for you

a tune of something you would like.

crushing charcoal beneith thier worn, gothic boots.

and here from below, the dead pine trees,

that easily sway in the wind;

creaking with age and exhaustion,

I tell you this;


I no longer smile at things;

they remind me of you.

and of your smile.

this endless verdigo

is too much for me now.

spinning on this cold, hard planet is no longer meaningful.

no matter how gentle a mockingbird may be

or how beautiful the song it sings

it is still only a mockingbird.

and is only capable of mere things

as it is only a mere creature.


I look up at the creamy blue sky

with no marbled clouds in sight

spinning slowly

light headed and disoriented


I missed you

that rainy Wednesday afternoon

the gloom and fog suffocating us all

I had no idea what I had

until it wasn’t there next to me


even if it was numb to begin with

even if you were numb to begin with

even if I was numb to begin with


I miss you






This was a traumatizing event in my life.

You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

I can’t stress how true this is.

I hope that people cherish the time they have on this planet and feel alive with those they love. Feel the breeze before it’s passed. And please, Remember to Love…





Rest in Peace, Beautiful Carol

5/10/96 – 1/11/12