Insomnia (The Whole Reason You're Here)

I unfocus my eyes so often
They wonder where I go
But it’s you, my dear
Since you’ve gone so long
I can’t bear to finish the book
We shared mutual feelings on
So it sits collecting dust
On my shelf alone
Like your picture in my yearbook
With such a goofy smile
That’s all that’s left
I don’t see you anymore
But you live in my dreams
And I wonder maybe
Am I in yours too?
Do you remember the girl
With the book under her arm
The one you looked at
With your wily charm
That made her fall
With one look in her eye
Now you’ve left me at night
To think of your smile
Your abrupt disappearances
The twinkle in your eye
Your voice pitched too high
Wondering if you think
Of the girl you left behind.

you check on me many times a day
with my antique ears
I hear your squeaking shoes
on these vinyl floors
someone laid for those who came before
like passengers on a stalled bus
with windows that allowed only one view

I know you and I wait for the same thing
for you to check on the passenger who replaces me
he will be no different
a few more hairs, perhaps a few less stares
you will gently place your hand on his wrist
write in his chart, and maybe
glance at the date of birth,
do the mindless math
and wonder without wonder
if my replacement will have a bigger number than I

but I am still here
gazing at your angled eyes
while you count the beats
which slow a little each day
waiting for you to say
how long will this one last?

don’t worry, squeaking vinyl floor walker
when my drum stops pounding
I will try to make sure it happens
while I am asleep

Is there anything
                           after
the fire simmers down, bed of red
      coals on the cold
                 dark ground all
              around when there's
        no sound and no space and
            no crystal tinkling laughter
   to climb your spine

                 or walk along a river spread
            beside a tired and tortured head
                        is there anything
                                             after?

laughter all laughter cascading past mountain
caves, pushed aside for so long in lieu of the ocean
and now looked upon with fresh eyes and new time

you are not ready for this life

you are not ready but you step ahead, you
fall on the steps and catch your breath and
rise like an angel

stay where you should be, even
though we are technically free

I don't want to be.

I survived high school by a small crack of glass.
I caught myself  by the pad of my finger tips, on the splintered pane,
after falling off the edge of a world of depression, anger, and pain,
and it was from there I pulled myself up, feeling more alive than I had in my entire life.
Because it was through hell that I walked, feet burning, for the diploma I earned on stage.
It was through spider webs I passed, scratching invisible clinging memories off,
to march tall and strong, toward the future I thought was nonexistent a month before.  
I survived high school by the non-working baby hairs on the back of my neck.
The ones that are supposed to stand up like frightened Halloween cats whenever dangers approaches,
and yet when my danger came calling, laid calm like the summer sun on your concrete drive way
and it's because of this I stand here today, looking into the eyes of your fresh faces, fearing that you too may be walking on coals.
It's because of this I want to pour the knowledge of my journeys into the openings of your skin,
let you soak up my mistakes so that maybe, just maybe, you won't have to make as many of your own.
For there are some mistakes that will never heal.
So when you reach for that bottle, hands hungrily searching for something impossible to find in Absolute Vodka,
remember that the only thing at the bottom of that bottle is blurred memories.
When your skin gets the itch only a blade can scratch,
stop, drop the blade, and coming running as fast as you can back into my words.
Hear me when I tell you that beneath your skin lies not an escape from this life, but only more of your alive, beating, self.
And as much as your eyes might need proof that you're alive, your chest is always right there below your head,
ready to let you feel the heart inside that makes you such a precious addition to this world.
Feel  it.
Let it's pounding remind you that dropping calories and skipping meals won't solve your problems.
That being skinny, as much of a temptation as it can be, isn't a goal worth losing the breath from your lungs.
Trust me, I know. And I know that heartbreak and loss and hurt are more than enough to make you want to tear apart the fabric of your life and create something new from the threads.
But please know that in end you'll only wind up tangled in the mess,
calling out for people that you've pushed so far away they can no longer hear you.
So instead of ripping through the darkness, know that you don't have to start from scratch,
but merely dye yourself, your life, a different color.
Know that everything you've been through and everything you've seen is building who you are, who you will be, and that slowly but surely you are becoming a work of art so unspeakably beautiful that nothing like you has ever been made or seen before and hold on to that.
Hold on to the idea that this world, and these people, they need you.  
They want nothing more than to see what you turn out to be. I know that's how I feel.
I look at every single one of you and choke up at the thought of how you will stand out as the purist work of art ever imaginable one day.
The kind of art that comes only from a lifetime of living and moving on and starting over.  Hold on to that.
When the world comes to your window with wind and rain, when it tries to drown you in your own tears, and break your spirit with your own emotions, know that you aren't facing the hurricane alone.
I am here, and I know.
I know that no matter what happens, there is enough fire left in you to keep going.
You just have to dig deep enough to smell the smoke.

We are born unto a crown of thorns.
Our tender skin rendered vulnerable
to self-made deities, rambling idols.
Our minds are roped and tied, binding
our thoughts with punishments.
Punishments disguised as pathways of love.

What love is brought into this world, when love is
taught by the bloodshed of others. What people
are created with love made from threats
of searing flesh? When did love become less
about acceptance and more about separating
those deemed worth and unworthy?

Gods of fear curse our world with tainted
versions of love. We are forced to our knees
before the power of an almighty being unknown
to mankind. In searching for purpose, we have forsaken
our freedom. We fall victim to the fears that numb our
brains liked "Grade A"  pharmaceuticals.

If your god is almighty, all loving, and all seeing,
why does he rule without mercy? Why does he
require full and complete submission as the only
pathway to him?

We go to war under the guise of bringing freedom.
Our politicians preach out from mountains our right
to freedom and free will. But when the votes are cast,
and the campaigns are run, we scuttle home to spread the
single most imprisoning ideological mindset to others.

Why fight for freedom,
when we give it away so willing
to a man behind smoke and mirrors?

he liked it black
scalding on his tongue
to wake to pain he said
rather than wait for caffeine’s slow tugging
that was his way

while she lay on crumpled sheets
breathing the air they scented with their raw rolling
he wanted a reminder
a scorched tongue to bring him back to his solitude
to remind him their naked chants cast a spell
that lasted no longer than the moon’s arc
if they were lucky enough to be fooled
into thinking their union meant immortality
rather than a desperate throbbing in fading light
with him closing his eyes to avoid her stare
and her wondering where he went
in the aftermath of lust
while she slept with dripping dreams…

she only knew what he said
each new morn
he liked it black

It is time to think the thoughts
That I avoid in the day,
The thoughts that creep from
Shadows, and enter my mind under
Closed eyelids.

You could make my world fall apart
Or you could give me a brand new start.
Things are going up and down
And I'm fighting for something that can't be found.
Look in my eyes and tell me you're here
'Cause it almost feels like I'm losing you, Dear.
I can tell there's something wrong in the air
And all I can do is just sit and stare.
I wish you could tell me what is on your mind
Because I hate feeling like I'm deaf, dumb, and blind.