why don’t you throw off your burdens?
take a load off
rest your weary shoulders
breathe, for once

go ahead

let everyone down

It’s all turning out
life feels real again
the storm was
nothing
but clouds

but the beaches are stripped and raw
and the windows still boarded
not yet ready to let
down
their guard

the soul wells with poetic thoughts
but the mind no longer knows poetic word
and the fingers no longer have poetic purpose
just a small figure in a towering chamber
where every footstep echoes for hours
so there is not a cough, not a whisper
and those who pass through would say
that no one lives there,
at least not any more

it was pointless to love
like the captain of a drowning vessel
still turning hard to starboard
as he stared into the deep, blue night
and charted a new course home

as it turned out,
I was at the edge because
I thought there was no one
who could talk me down

I hope I remember that
next time

coming out of sickness like a phoenix
(awkward, damaged, but passionately
aflame with the chances of a new life),
I drove in the early mornings, before
the sun could catch the glint of my eyes,
and listened to quiet music about worlds
unspoiled and dreams unperverted

at sixteen, I had just survived my first
battle with the end (the tumor was gone
but it took half my mouth with it) and
I didn’t know what that meant yet

nothing was good but
everything was better

the cool, dark air tingled my skin with
the strangeness of a blind man’s first
sight

the music helped
for the moment

god, what a relief it was
to find out he wasn’t real
after all

god, it was good to know
that we didn’t need him
after all