Think inside the box

Tomorrow is a special day for my girlfriend & I. We're celebrating our one year anniversary without him. You may ask who is him, well him was my girlfriends ex-boyfriend who couldn't accept the fact that her & I were madly in love.  
 
What led up to March 21st being our one year anniversary is a tragedy for him, not us. At one point after New Years, she decided to break it off with him. There were issues that were typical for a boyfriend & girlfriend. Jealousy, poor communication and affairs. He had other girl friends and would deny he cheated on her numerous times. A few times she called him out on it, but didn't have the energy to fight and just gave in. When he knew about her affair with me, he flew off the handle. Maybe he thought since she had low self-esteem that she would never have another guy, let alone leave him. I guess it didn't help that this guy was my cousin. A cousin who lived three towns away. A cousin who at one time I was very fond of & close with. We were two years apart. We attended concerts together, ball games, went on trips etc...
 
Three years ago they met, through me. At the time I was dating someone else but that relationship went nowhere. They seemed happy and they looked great together, until one day when she called me on the phone asking to talk to me. He was out with some friends from work. She revealed to me how she can't deal with his constant lying and his heartless, demeaning ways. She wanted out. She then revealed to me that she wants me. She's had eyes for me for quite sometime now.  She said she never felt this way for a man before. I revealed to her that I really liked her & I've always thought what it would be like to date her. She said that she'll deal with my cousin and tell him the news.
 
When she revealed to my cousin that she was moving on, he went bonkers. He kept drilling her who was the guy, I'm going to kill him. At first she didn't reveal it was me. We kept the relationship under wraps. Somehow, he found out. Maybe a relative, maybe a friend of ours. I don't know to this very day. All I know is, one day we were out quite a distance from our home on a weekday having lunch at a cafe, when he arrived.  We noticed a bright red truck pull up. He was wearing fatigues and looked like he was coming in here to start some shit. He didn't. He waited outside. Our car was parked two spaces away from his truck. We really didn't finish our food. We were both concerned and we knew we eventually needed to leave. We though about calling the cops but we didn't. The waitress asked us if we were Ok, we said yes, no problems.  
 
As we approached our car, I can feel his eyes burning a hole into the side of my face. As we were about to get into the car, he grabbed her and said, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME"!? He took his fist and punched her right in the mouth. Two teeth were shattered from this assault. Her door was open so she immediately closed the door and locked it. I went up to him, grabbed him by the shirt and said, "FUCK YOU"!! As I was about to punch him, he took a piece of iron or a crowbar and hit me twice. Once in the arm, the other striking the back of my neck. As I was able to open the door and pull myself into the car, he took the object and smashed my back window. We were able to pull away before it could get any worse.  
 
When we arrived home, she told me she can't live like this anymore. She went on by saying this wasn't the 1st time he struck me. I never told you but he's hit me several times. I explained to her that we need to figure out a way to make him disappear forever. She liked the idea and the two of us planned a way to eradicate the disease.
She came up with an idea that horrified me but at the same time enlightened me as well. She went on by saying, my family owns a funeral home. Why don’t we lure him into my place one day, kill him and we can then get rid of the evidence. I told her that I’ll think about it.
It didn’t take long for me to think about it. After the incident, she was getting threatening messages from him. Nasty e-mails and even death threats through the mail. She was shattering piece by piece, day by day. I said to her one night, Ok, let’s do it.
She planned on making up a lie to him that we broke up. She was then going to call him to come over and talk. That’s when she’ll spike his drink with some poisonous substance to end it once and for all.
 
The night was March 21st. I wasn’t to far from her place just in case something went wrong. She was to keep all blinds shut and the house dimly lit. If something went wrong and she couldn’t call me, all the lights would be turned on or flickering. If everything goes well, I was to arrive at her front door between 8:00-8:30 PM
Around 7:00 PM, he arrived. She said he looked a little drunk but not obliterated. He immediately started getting loud with her and told him that if she ever does something like this again, he will kill her and dump her somewhere no one will find her. She made her move to him, to say that she was sorry and that her true love was him. Her eyes, shifted towards the liquor bottle she spiked with something she stole from her family’s business. Lethal enough to kill in a few minutes. He began to kiss her without any passion. His hands and tongue all over her like it was his first time. She then said, wait! Let’s have a drink so we can get in the mood. Without any hesitation he said, sure, you know what I like. She poured him a nice size glass of Jim Beam mixed with poison. He drank it like it was a glass of water. She began to back away from him. As he started to walk slowly to her, he began to sweat profusely. His motor skills and his speech began to react violently towards the lethal dose. He fell to the ground, vomiting, trembling, and dying.  
 
I arrived around 8:20 PM. She answered the door. She looked a little disheveled. Once I walked in and closed the door, she said, the deed is done. He’s dead. I went over to look at the body. We had some cleaning up to do. At least it wasn’t some horrible, bloody crime scene. I went to check his pulse & to hear for a heartbeat. Nothing. She then said, let’s get moving and get the body into your car. From there we’ll go to the crematory and dispose of him. I asked how we’ll we do this; wouldn’t your parents suspect anything. She said nah, don’t worry about it. The funeral home is empty tonight. I have the keys and I have seen each step numerous times on how to turn a body into ash.
 
About 20 minutes later we arrive. The place and the surrounding area are quiet. We pull the car towards the back. I was able to remove the body as she opened the doors. She went inside to get a gurney, so it will be easier to transport the body downstairs. As we arrive downstairs, the place is dank and eerie. Knowing this is where many have met their second fate. Dying once and then being consumed by fire. She began to turn on all components. The flames needed to get to a temperature of 1,400 - 2,000F, hot enough to incinerate his body. Everything he was wearing or carried with him was going into the brick oven. No remains, no evidence. We were able to lift him up and place him in a cremation container. From there his body is then moved to the cremation chamber. We both had a smile on our faces as he slowly entered the fire. The flames consumed him within minutes. Not sure what happened next as I went into the other room not to watch him turn to dust.
 
A short time later, she came to me and said, it’s finished. When I entered the room, there was nothing but ash. She went upstairs to her father’s office and found in a cabinet an index box. The type a kid would bring to elementary school to hold supplies. She took some of his ash and placed it inside the box. She said to me, we’ll keep this box in a secure place so that no one will know about it except you & I. I said Ok.
 
We were questioned about the disappearance of my cousin. Many family members were upset and often wondered what happened. But as time passed and no clues showed up, his case & memory died. Our lives flourished. We eventually moved away from the area. I do sometimes think of him and miss him.  
 
We will remember that fateful day tomorrow by pulling out the box with his ashes. Now you understand the importance of this anniversary and the love her & I share.

 
Music has always been a means to transport
Like a time machine
It lets us travel to certain phases and places now long gone
It can take us down memory lane
To where the brain may have forgotten specific memories
To where we may long to remember the pleasure
Or re-live the pain
 
But when the songs are on repeat
They become an endless melancholy in a box
Unable to move forward
Stuck on old wounds
Enjoying the cuts all over again
And whether they’re coming from the old ghetto blaster
Or Walkman
Or Zune
Whatever device you use to listen to those tunes
The world around you keeps spinning
While the nostalgia has no end
 
One day not long ago
I logged on to the old radio station
And though no particular songs triggered a memory
The format made me sentimental
For that younger me
For that foolish me
Resurrecting old ways of thinking
Though I am not that person anymore
 
It’s cracked now
The songs spill sporadically
I still give them a listen every now and then
I can hit replay or whenever they hit the airwaves, I’m way OK
Now they’re just reminders
That being stuck inside a box full of melancholy
Is no way to live

I made a little pretty box  
to keep precious things within.
I've named it, of course, Fort Knox  
It's hid among my pants and socks  
until I bring it out again...
 
A hand-made box for precious things  
I put my whole heart into it
and when I'm out to dance and sing  
wine and dine and have fling
my heart is safe, within it.

the womb of the
woman who gave
birth to me was

brutally cut open
with a knife scary
hands wrapped

in plastic pulled
me out suddenly
& put me in a box

...made of glass

it's said it feels
like an invasion

creating a sense
of unsafety for the

...harmless baby

reading about it
it all made sense

the nightmares i

had as a child of
being put in a box
and thrown into the

water or left behind
in a burning forest

...in a grey coffin

i'm forty eight and
i still don't feel safe

not in this world, not
in this life, not even in

this fragile body of mine

 
I passed away long years ago  
and death gave me all that I posses,  
a comfy berth free of rent and tax, though,  
being incomeless that could induce some stress.  
 
I have a box to keep my bones within  
a roof composed of good old English turf,  
and here I lie and the dead long day sing  
of the second coming and my rebirth.  
 
I have sang all the old songs, composed anew,  
and still I lie and still I sing,  
although the notes are now lower and few,  
as my bones return to dust, the fear stings.

On March 22nd i
got a call from the
crematorium with

some protocols
day of cremation

of Ravi, my cat.

On March 23rd i
was called by my
mother she picked

a fight, fuck it why
begged her to stop

she didn't, i cried

no apps cards or
phonecalls for me

no birthday wishes

just a text with the
time of cremation

On March24th i
came home, box
of ashes in hands

on the bottom his
name and the day

i was born ♰ i never

felt more lost & alone.

Box ready, packed, on the table...

He imagined the opening
and could already feel the fireworks
in her eyes.  

He looked at the clock
and decided it was too early.  
He grabbed his coat and
walked out the door.

He went out to do some things...
he died after being run over!

The box remained,
ready and closed, on the table.

  

The world
is like a box
hurtling through
the speed of light, cosmos
green and blue
with the corners chopped off
an 8 billion crew, minions to
Captain Jack Frost
trapped in our view, the moon
knows we are lost
the spectrum splits through
the hues
of rainbowed floss
old Moses, he too
got renewed
a testament, to the boss
all the brand new
becomes viewed
and is a was.

  

  
A floating illusion
coated in a fission, fusion
uranium, insane, ion cake
the lid is flapping
above the carbon base
eliptically tracking
around the star we race
soon the spherical in the packing
will fly out
and we will break.