come meet me on a better day
when you fall upon my face
with joyous song and happy fair
that swings the world apace
——
for far done, am i with this rendevouz
in a somber, fear laden tone
that burns my throat with mistakes
that won’t leave me alone
——
the water begs an answer
none which have i to give
so simply takes me over
until air won’t let me live
—-
i beg you just a recess
bring comfort & warmth to my mind
for i fear if this meeting continues
the water will paint me blind
—-
a goodnight kiss stays on my lips
as the fire light shines in your eyes
the sadness i feel
pumps my heart
with the heaviness of your goodbyes
i shine at the mirage
to see you once more
that you’ll banish my fears to the skies
You’re doing a load of whites. Your favorite whites; gorgeous white blouse that makes you feel like you’re the star of Dirty Dancing; tight white pants that are your confidence and strength, pulling all focus in a room; a comfy white sweatshirt, so crisp and clean that you can’t help but feel safe and at home. Unbeknownst to you there is a red sock hiding, an enemy in the brush, under and inbetween your cloaks of unaltered existence. Just one. Because this enemy doesn’t need a twin to completely tear your world apart.
Today is a red sock.
I’ve had troubles seeing your face.
Not that my vision has been blurry.
The scope of clarity is deafening.
That’s what worries me.
The closeness is gone.
Some space I don’t recognize, the new resident.
How can that be so quick?
Lightning to a tree trunk.
I’m not sure what to do with it.
I expect the balance to return.
But all I do is teeter.
Platform Peril from Mario Party.
I don’t pretend that I understand.
Avoidance broods fake enlightenment.
We retreat into shells made of glass.
Thinking our insides will stay there.
Shocked when we see them on the kitchen table.
A platter for all to see.
Vulnerability makes us human.
Says some dime star philosopher.
Sure he checks his zodiac on a discarded newspaper from two years ago.
Where my body wishes it was.
Time traveled and unbroken.
The wishbone before the verdict.
I’m new to the world of online blogging.
Which seems completely silly since I facebook more times in a day than I eat. Which is a lot. Because I snack often. This is sad.
Regardless, it seems strange to be ‘journaling’ (face it, that’s what this is), for the world. Am I writing a newspaper? Seriously. But welcome to creative expression in the 21st century, right?
I don’t really have a lot to say.
This is completely untrue.
Without much to say, why would one need an avenue of ‘expression’? Be a mime.
I guess I’m sick of people too afraid to say what they feel, to express it at least. Sick of me being that person as much as seeing those people.
Because what we hate more than ‘that guy’ is realizing we’re one tirade and bad decision away from BEING ‘that guy’.
Because I can walk away from ‘that guy’. I’m stuck with me.
I’ve missed you for only a moment
though decades have taken your place
for a memory plays out in the silence
yet sound falls soft on my face
I embrace in you glad contradictions
that appear as they may in my head
re-imagined in form to my eyelids
that wither and wane in the red
I’ll see you no more as you leave me
a time that in play must be stitched
but my hand on your heart I’ll feel always
long after tears have dried in the ditch
the silence finds me quickly
the memories faded in lightning
a moment when distance felt so close
when your whispers weren’t frightening
i held your light in my hands
with the warmth on my face in darkness
but the light is cold and craving
the energy it steals from my likeness
what was familiar is foreign
buried in ritual i don’t understand
now your shadow is the only thing i know
as your touch falls through my hand
my breath fuels the trees
i must still be alive
but your hand no longer pumps my heart
left alone to search for ways to survive
