And so she sleeps. An Obituary.

And so she sleeps, my guiding, guardian angel.
Bright jade eyes slip drowsily closed as an empathetic, half-hearted smile graces her tiny lips.
A smile... her smile... that persists in sleep, as eyelashes brush cheeks, rosy and delicate.

And so she sleeps, darkening the windows to her soul,
Retreating within herself, voluntarily, willingly, though not happily.
Tiny hands desperately clutch wadded sheets, belying her calm visage.

And so... she sleeps.

And as she sleeps her eyes that lightened the world dim.
Out, but never forgotten.
Her eyes which spoke the volumes of her soul... and mine... silence.

The lips that uttered songs of angels,
spoke words to the unseen world around her,
calmed fears, tamed beasts, made a song without a melody,
are slightly parted... peaceful... and silent.

The fingers and hands that made a dreary word beautiful are still.
That clutched a pen, a paintbrush, a book, a phone.... Her tools,
Lay idle, twitching involuntarily from time to time in protest.

The chest that cradles her beating heart,
The heart that opened doors, and windows, and closets, and curtains,
and inspired people to fly from them, out them, around them, in glorious freedom,
lays quiet.
With simply the gentle rise...

...and fall...

the only indication she lives at all.

And so she sleeps... her pigtailed head nestled amongst the softest pillows I could find.
The mind that drove my world.
The artist... the writer... the poetess... the dreamer.

And so she dies to the world.
That through necessity I might ignore her.
Forget myself.
That I may live on in comfort.

The shell of the self we were.