a/n: twelve a.m. - i guess, in the end, i didn't think (that they'd take so much of me with them).

. 24: in memoriam .

butterflies gathered about the light, their wings spread gauzy thin;
the rain promised redemption & knocked them aside,
spraying their bodies (smashed & left cold) across glass. he
waited, his breath
misting in the dark under the cover of the avenue, for
the flurry of colour, each spirit taking flight.

ice trailed behind the cruel edge of his knife, soft,
gentle spirals of frost painted a prayer on my window & i pressed my
palm flat against the light of morning, studied
frown skewered. but the call was for the mourning dove, the molten
tears sketching a picture of your shadow splattered on
the wall.

each heartbeat flips itself over on its hands, impales itself
in the harsh daylight. time is a rolled up passage,
birth a forced regime, & the rest of life’s days extolled
slavery under the candlelight. pass gently,
love.
i'm watching you go so please don't cry.

(an alarm clock sounds, somewhere nearby.
eyes open, & hands unfold.
the sunlight creeping forward to devour, merciless.
the fingers clenching to keep from reaching out.
empty.
dreams & memories seep away through the walls.
do you dream & remember you?
the steps on the floor too loud, too real.
the words unheard, the apologies too late.
empty.
the door swinging shut.
one word left trapped inside, weeping,
echoing along the ceiling as
guilt opens the veins etched into the floor,
empty:
"fin."

the key turns.)

thank you so much for reading this collection. it is for three people but mostly for her. please know whatever i was able to say, she was more than that. she left behind people who lost so much more than what these 24 poems could express.

S.C.
august 1988 - january 2006
rest in peace.
you will always, always be missed.

(i couldn't save her.) i lv y. i mss y. i nd y. (i'm so, so sorry i just stood while you were hurting.)

i should leave it here, but i need to say something to wrap this up, because i want to justify how much this collection means to me. no matter what you think of the changes in my work throughout my time here at fp, for better or for worse, 24 over insomnia is the best thing i've ever written. nothing else can compare. i mean - it's got twenty-four poems in one. very unfair odds, but i don't believe any of the poems in this collection can be omitted or posted elsewhere. some of them come close to standing alone, but can't.

there will be 24 works of poetry on this account when i leave it. nothing up will change. one more piece will be posted, & then i will leave the poetry side of fictionpress. i will still be here reading, though. i have come full circle in life & in much of my writing. it is what it is. maybe i regret a lot of where i was along the way, but i am what i am. i cannot change anything that happened. i reached the end, & all it feels like is the beginning. there is no final solution, no answer, no salvation. i can't break this cycle. & i'm finally trying to be okay with that.

thank you from the bottom of my heart, for reading my work & for letting me know. for all the reviews i never deserve & all the inclusions on favourite lists. you honour me. you touched me. i will never forget your work & words. you know who you are.

i hope that, wherever you are now & may find yourself in the future, you always look up to see sky.

-kait