Why does nostalgia soothe
The heartbreak? When you take
So much of yourself and ask someone
To hold it, trust them to keep
It, cradle it in their arms
Until that piece of you becomes a part
Of them
And when they trade themselves back
Into your hands
Knowing for certain you won't ever let them slip...

But the reality is: sometimes people trip
And lose sight of the path
The aftermath can't always be predicted
When what started as love
Begins to feel more like addicted
To err is human, road to Hell's paved with what?
Can't find it in within yourself
To even strut to the middle
Won't meet no one halfway
We often get lost and trade out entire whole days
Just for love led astray, we may never find the way back
Without help, and to accept that
You must accept yourself
And own where you misstepped

Oh, how I wept when I finally let myself
Grow, gave myself the chance
To learn what nostalgia has known
That I'm more than a moment, so much more
Than the sum of my flaws
And I too can change, choose to give my love freely
Never exchanged for a price
Never taken or wasted, yes
Living takes strength
But to be vulnerable is sacred
I deserve to heal and be witnessed
By the one who held me, only now
I am whole, without shame or doubt
I will bare my soul and show others
Back to themselves
And if my love located me
In the chaos of life
How joyous the return, and the journey
Knowing the good that's awaited
As we travel the new path
One that we created

How queer, to look in the mirror
And the person inside looks
U n f a m i l i a r . . .
Did I ever know who I am?
The thoughts I've examined, feelings at my core
No more can I claim control over them
Logic understands, Abandoned by my father, Co dependent mother, a lil sprinkle of physical abuse
A narcissist let loose to plant a poisonous seed
Logic gets it, I need my heart to catch up
I can feel it, hasnt healed it, for so long
I have doubted myself, questioned my worth
An alcoholic thirst to numb the pain, self medicate
And wait for something different to happen or change
But the souls on this earth are just toys, rearranged
Or sold off, packed away, left to rot in the attic
Of the universe...

Or maybe planted like seeds
The inner workings of life, I thought I had a grip
And you ripped the last piece of foundation from under my soles
While the rest fell away
After all of this time how could you treat me this way?
Obsessively refreshing your pages, scouring for proof
That you made a mistake and that you always knew
Compulsively counting all the dudes who like you
What are you up to tonight? who did you choose?
maybe I am decade old news, each headline reached deeper
Into disappointed regret

Yet you were the tree that cleaned the air that I breathed
I never let myself know the things that nourished your roots
Or traced the sunlight that shaped you, or what pruned your shoots
I know I ****** up, I know I caused harm
made her unsafe when I was supposed to be
shelter
made her question her worth, unspoken words sweletered
I thought it was still warm, whatever thing was left between us
So I planted more seeds, when what I needed to do
was cultivate me, so I could have helped you grow
and show up how you needed me to show
Now I know that if anyone deserved what you did to me
It was me...
Cracked wide open, no other choice but let go
To this painful becoming, no numbing it now
Figure out how to fill my own cup, trust my own gut
Give myself grace, but my face...
I don't even know what side it is on
But it’s getting older, more and more grays
And those eyes look so strange
The hands that I trusted dug the dirt and wrote names
The soul I've forgotten used to know the how and the why
But while I was gone she let my garden die
Tomatoes bursting on vines, peppers shrivel and whine
Soil dry as the dust we return to, repeat the lesson
That I never learned to, now i work my inner night shades and yearn to see
This dashing good looking guy smile
And laugh, really laugh, Jesus it's been a long while

Life is hard, unfairly cruel, but the jewel
is that it's also absurd, overheard on the street
where every red car is hers, two other hers talking shop
Drop your location girl, he's trying to **** and this couple walks up
the man unlocks his car and said
he was waiting for the fireworks
they all get in and drive off
I scoffed, what the **** was all that
Then I heard fireworks
for baseball
people are so ******* weird
and I laughed....
it just tickled me right
I might not know anything, my hands or my face
but I do know no one loved anything
like the two short old dudes loved
the random cover band in the bar that night
they were quite inspired, and you know what
maybe I am
too

back at my mom's house
I thought you were the one
my spouse, our vows
turned out to be lies
I tried, but it was too late
now I wait for you to finally
ghost me

nah, I should just ghost myself
my mother checks up but
I don't have the heart to tell
this is the most suffering
that i've ever felt
but I learned one thing
it can always get worse and it does
oh it does, where are the highs
I'm just lower than dirt
where's the beautiful verse
my brain only rehearsed
all the shadowy echoes
that tell me to die
I'm too tired to even try anymore
I face the darkness
on the sunniest days
come whatever may
nothing matters, not these letters
if I can't be better, I don't want
to be at all

I am sorry
It's all that I am honestly
what the **** is this reality other than
futile, I see nothing beautiful
just hurt hurt hurt
it's all that I've become
and the tears burst through my eyes
the gross snot in my lungs, cough cough, can't knock it off
wish this sickness killed with the quickness
but it's too slow, nowhere to run
nowhere to go, no one to turn to
but if I'm no one, why am I this way
don't touch me
don't pray, don't waste the time
I've got one life, the only thing
thats mine, i give it back
heart attack, I just wait
while even the seconds
feel like days
I stare at the wall till i sleep
and wake up all over again
it's too much, but I'm not afraid
anymore, I just want to rest
I say that with my whole chest
till my heartbeat ends

but when I say I'm out with friends
it's a lie, I'm out here alone
scrolling my phone so I don't look
******* weird, knowing I'm out of place
and the needle's kiss is the most sincere
fentanyl drip, skip the lips
I never done it before, so I shouldn't need much
but I'll bang a whole gram
into my veins, do it right, no more fight
no more pain
I just want to finally feel good out of sheer spite
forget my name, it brought no light
I never did anything worthwhile
just fake smiles and lie
to myself and everyone else
I needed help like yesterday
but as always, it's too late
call it fate if you want
but there's no such thing
just bring me to oblivion
sweet needle sting

She chose to sleep with him tonight
Again

Feeling unlovable
And unloved
And alone
I sleep on the couch
Even though my bed
Is empty

Origami flowers and paper cranes
cloak my desk and litter the floor,
and one more
for each day that you haven’t been mine.

But it’s fine, I’ve more paper.

So I’ll keep folding, and repeat
step one through step eight. But now
it’s getting late and I can hear you
around the corner.
So in order, I’ll rehearse step eight through
fourteen as a means to bridge
the rift at the ridge of my
mind.

I can’t afford to be alone,
adrift inside.

Because I fear if I weren’t folding this paper,
I might foolishly try to manipulate the
stars
in the deep purple sky. My nights spent
mapping a light dotted guide. Then it’s
inside reverse, crimp,
and crease, until it’s one
perfect piece of art.
I fold, in part, because I know
that without this sheet, I would aim,
in vain, to
crease time and space into pretty paper shapes
where I’d reside in the folds with you.

But I am no Asteria, and the stars
are not mine to hold.

So I continue to fold, and
restate step one through step eight
and I’ll wait for your resonance to
dissipate.

I overheard last week that you need a new hobby
and since you know it can't be me,
consider origami.

Today I caught myself watching the clock, tirelessly counting
seconds, minutes, and moments; for in that short time it was clear,
I am here.
But how much of me?
The blood coursing through my veins, feeding my flesh,
feels thick and real; but is it just a projection, my perception
of BEING?
Could it be that my outward senses are nothing more than
a coping mechanism, a tether if you will,
meant to keep my mind still and my body grounded?
When released from my dermal prison, will my consciousness escape me,
or will it rise up free with no boundary?

Perhaps we are sturdy and real, something I can feel,
something to grasp.
Or, perchance, we’re merely a cloud of energized matter, buzzing madly
through time and through space.
An imaginary face, nothing more.
Although the latter leaves a bittersweet taste on my fictitious tongue,
now to me it is clear. This isn’t so much a poem about
Clarity,
as it is a poem about questions.
Question.
Because if the cold ceased to bite, and the bee never stung,
would I be someTHING, or would I be someONE?

I watched as those that reflected on the
darkness, thinking I was about to be
obscured within oblivion, but can you
keep a secret that no one knows?

"I was on the dark side of your dream,

Oblivion is a black hole within me...
I absorbed the light, not only that
but the obscurity of light is alive!
Within me... see my shadow in the dark places...

They thought that it was shade,
but shadows move? Have you ever noticed that?
I weave within luminosity but feed upon you
when it lingers in hibernation.

Radiance is a puppet of oblivion, we let it linger,
have its say, make it feel that there is nothing
without darkness. But have you ever suffocated
light? It’s simple, turn it off and what, oblivion.

I let it have its motions, thinking it takes a stand.
But all light fades, and then there is only me.
I'm not inanimate, I'm consciousness and I'm
looking at you in the light, oblivion smiles.....