Life after Death

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Death Changes Us –

I lost my first love to death at nineteen, chased his ghost for a decade; trying to find him, trying to find who I was without him, until I met the mate of my soul; found love with him so true and unconditional that I was totally free just to be and discover me. Now too, I have lost that love to death – my greatest love, my true love, my last love; and while I know exactly who I am now, don’t have to search or chase his ghost, for I see and feel him everywhere, in every thing, I can’t get past the pain of my broken heart to even fill my lungs with a full breath. Love changed us, it made us better, it created precious life from the best of both of us, it saved us more than once and his death has changed me still more. If I could feel anything past this pain perhaps I could find a way to peel my self off the floor. 
~ jill terry 7.7.16

Love lost

Byron Terry April 24, 1952 – August 31, 2015

I’ve known death and darkness, but the pain and devastation of losing my husband is like nothing I could ever have imagined. I wish it on no one. Travel well, my beautiful man, and know that when we meet again, I’m going to kick your ass hard and then hold you to your promise of living to 104; and taking those 41 years you owe me.

  

Gypsy Soul ~

A fortress she built, stronghold round her heart, burying the key within an ancient tomb, so that no man could do as once he had done ~
©2014 jillterry | gypsychyk.com

Ring of Fire

And she jumped through willingly, every ring of fire, an animal doing tricks, in hopes of pleasing her trainer; presents-a-plenty whenever she succeeded, loving words and tender touches that soothed the wounds and eased the burn. And though he longed to be her master, he misstepped one too many, and as any wild lioness, being tempted to be tamed, she didn’t take kindly to his mishandling, and that would-be masters heart she maimed.

©2014 jillterry | jillterry.com

In truth

He could no longer see the goodness, feel the warmth from the light that emanated from within her; no longer cared or believed her claims of love. For the vile hurtful words of truth penetrated deep, daggers slung with precision, straight to the heart. But instead of pulling them out and assessing the damage his truth perpetuated, in an attempt to heal his own wounds and those he inflicted on others, he preferred to leave them there to fester, become diseased, possibly be the death of him; so he could once again coast on pity, feigning the victim, while easing his conscience in convincing himself that she was just like all the rest. When in truth, there had never been another like her, nor would there ever be again.

©2013 jillterry | jillterry.com

Hidden truths

The pain we carry
Whether real or
Mental phantoms
Keep us trapped

No matter what hope
We think we’ve found
Or how deep a mark
We believe we’ve made

The illusion fades
Because it’s a mere
Surface reflection
Of who we really are

In fear we retreat
Back inside ourselves
Not wanting to reveal
Or able to self heal

Our hidden truths

Personal demons
That cause fear and pain
With the power to drive
All else away

©jillterry
jillterry.com

GALA

Her words resonated
Like raindrops falling
Echoing in the stillness
Of his silence

Touching him deep
Lighting his spirit
Finding great comfort
He opened the door

Damn the consequences
Or possible reward
He had no expectation
Just drawn to her uniqueness

He kept it low key
Offering friendship and kindness
When what he wanted
Was to embrace and keep her

Feel her tears
Run down his neck
As selflessly he absorbed
Past demons and pain

Wrapping her in him
Holding her tight
In the lucid silence
Of the empty night

©2013 jillterry
jillterry.com

upon his lips

Upon his lips
She left a kiss
That would carry
Them into forever

Then ushered forth
On wings of pain
She fled into the night

Banishing herself
Under a cloak of darkness
Returning to her world
Of solitary confinement

Where even the trees
Wept in her presence

©2013 jillterry
Jillterry.com