It’s been a long day,

Since I’ve seen you last,

And angel,

I hope you have wings,

To see me,

Even when I can’t,

See you.

She was born,

With birth defect,

In her left leg,

The caused the veins to be atrophied,

So not enough blood,

Flowed to it.

 

It made her leg shorter,

Then the one,

And skinnier.

 

She always felt self-conscious

About wearing jeans,

And she had to have them,

Specially made.

 

Oh but my darling,

Don’t you see,

How wonderful that makes you?

 

You can wear special shoes,

With a heel on your left one,

And rock styles,

No one else can!

 

You are exquisitely unique,

In a way,

That no else can imagine.

 

So darling,

Please understand,

That no one sees’s you as horribly imperfect,

Or badly flawed physically.

 

They see a strong girl,

Who was given something special,

Which made everything normal,

A little bit harder.

 

And darling,

The strongest people,

Are my favorite.

 

A Girl Who Waits

For the hopeful

 

My darling,

You are a girl,

Who waits,

For something wonderful.

 

You wait for sweetheart,

Something the world,

May never give:

A cure.

 

I wish I could make one,

Of love alone,

Because you would be healed,

In no time.

 

But dearest,

Who am I to say,

What time you have?

Who am I to guess,

When your lungs give out?

 

Because angel,

I don’t want to imagine,

A world without you.

 

So if you become,

A girl who waits honey,

That is fine with me,

As long as I can keep you,

Here a little longer,

Living on nothing,

But hope.

 

 

Crash

Dear Elliot,

This is for you.

This is not for the boys,

Who laughed at your name,

And didn’t want to date a girl,

Who could beat them in any sport.

 

Dear Elliot,

I wish you had noticed sooner,

How beautiful your freckles are,

Because even though only a few,

Ever called them anything but,

You seemed never to think,

That they could be beautiful.

They were, E.

They were.

 

Dear Elliot,

I remember

  how much,

You always loved black,

But I don’t think,

You would like,

Your funeral,

Because everything was red,

Or white,

Or grey,

And only a few people,

Wore black.

 

Dear Elliot,

Phobia is stuck a strong word,

But I fear it makes me weak,

Because I won’t get into a car,

Because I know,

That is what killed you.

 

Dear Elliot,

Your name is stitched,

Onto the back,

Of every soccer jersey,

In white,

And you would be proud,

To know,

Your soccer cleats,

Sit in the trophy case.

Our school team,

Is now named,

Elliot’s Angels,

But I think,

The better name is,

Elliot’s Warriors,

Because you were never,

The soft kind of the girl,

So that is why,

It took something made out of steel,

To take down,

The iron girl.

 

Dear Elliot,

Your rose gold ring,

Was smashed on impact,

But your mom,

Now wears it,

Around her neck,

As a charm.

 

Dear Elliot,

Come back.

 

Dear Elliot,

The boys lacross team,

Out of respect for you,

Paint an “E” on their cheeks,

In black paint,

Whenever they go on the field,

Because you earned that.

 

Dear Elliot,

The entire school is changed,

You made an impact.

I only wish you could be here to see it.

 

 

 

 

Ependymoma

You left before,

You even had a chance at life.

The only scar you had,

Was above your left eyebrow,

And the only love,

You had ever known,

Was family love.

You had never ridden,

On a roller coaster,

Eaten a mango,

Or figured out to color,

Inside the lines.

Six,

Is such a horrible age,

To leave the world,

Because you almost had chance,

To do it all.

After the first,

Doctor’s appointment,

You only smiled,

And said,

“It’s okay Izzy, I’ll get better.”

You didn’t though,

And the name of your cancer,

Seemed to worm its way,

Through the house,

And into every adult’s mouth.

I remember the bright smile,

You gave me,

When your speech was slurring,

As you said,

As clearly as you could,

“It’s okay, Izzy can talk for me.”

You laid in bed,

After you started,

Having difficulty walking,

And you always mumbled,

When you seemed too weak to talk,

“Izzy. Uno?”

Angel,

You left the world at six,

And if you had been able to stay,

It would have been,

A better place.

Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma

Chemo:

They hooked you to,

An IV,

Which let the clear fluid,

Go right into you,

And darling,

Have you ever noticed,

Your tears were the same color?

 

Hair loss:

You always wore,

A white beanie,

To cover the fact,

You had no hair.

But darling,

Why be ashamed,

Of a mark,

Of a survivor?

 

Fever:

Why do you always,

Have to scare us,

So much,

Darling?

 

Weight Loss:

You never liked your body,

But sweetheart,

Have you noticed,

You like it no more,

With all the weight,

You loose,

Because of cancer?

Cough or shortness of breath:

You always panicked,

And looked so scared,

As every little act,

Made you gasp for breath,

Or bend over in coughing.

But angel,

Don’t you know,

That we all feel breathless,

Around you,

As if one little puff of air,

Could blow you away?

 

Headache’s:

Your head always hurt,

And the scariest part was,

You never knew if it was cancer,

Or just stress.

But darling,

Don’t worry,

Because I will stand by you,

In both.

 

 

You survived angel, but many of your hospital friends did not.