Tejan Green

Tejan Green is a New York based writer and college English instructor. She recently co-authored a book of poetry titled “We Were Us” and is at work on a new collection.



I hold on


You are a kind soul, and still in the world in some way so I can’t yet fix my lips to say

goodbye.  See you later was kinda your thing.


I set aside some time this morning to pray and all I really did was cry,

but that was a kind of testimony.  I sent my love letters to God for proofreading. We are sure that my messages

can’t get any clearer–I miss you deeply.


What is a yell if not a call to the universe? If the words fail, our bodies always find a way to tell on us and

energy is truly everything.


It’s funny the peculiar things one remembers when all that’s left is memory; the strange, funny and

inappropriate things about you are sometimes the only bright spots on cloudy days when the sadness won’t let



Silence can be scary. Thoughts can be annoying. Recently I have allowed myself to sit in silence with my



I get the feeling that there might be another world trying to break into my brain, but the noise could be coming

from somewhere else.  You know I’ve always believed in magical, fairy pixie-dust- like things.


If I tell you that the universe is always listening to us, would you believe me?  I remember what you used to say,

but what do you think now that you’re on the other side?  You never did seem to agree with my take on

reincarnation, but you always listened and now I think I agree with you.


There was once a person I knew for only a short while and when I learned of his passing I started to miss him in

a way that I could not understand.


Even people you think that you hate can teach you something about yourself so imagine all the good that love

can do. Of course, it’s not all about you; Me. It’s not all about me.  It actually is about you.  I’ve been trying to

take less and give more, but sometimes I feel selfish. Time is such a hot commodity.


The day you died, I cried, but not all day–sporadically–while walking, while dressing, while driving. Tears

came and left at will as if they had taken hold of my body and thought me to be a puppet. It’s that kind of cry

that pushes through while you’re in the middle of something really important with people who have no time for

your shit and it pains your face to hold back the flood, but luckily it’s allergy season so no one questions your

excessive use of tissues.  I just mean to say, I miss you.

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