There are too many souls
that have gone and drilled holes
through the floors upon which I walk.
Now, when I look down
I more often notice the ground
so very far from the soles of my feet.
Like the same sensation
you get from walking on a catwalk...
high above a theater's stage.
My heart drops all the way to my feet
becoming the only thing between
me and the space below.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
I'm begging for intimacy.
I'm pining for attraction.
I long for affection.
And around every corner,
I find myself yearning.
I yearn for anything
to replicate the very same feeling I get
when I feel the summer sun on my face,
the warm breeze brushing my hair off my neck,
the soft wetness of a particularly lush patch of grass beneath my toes.
The feeling I get
the one that bubbles up
and spreads warmth
throughout my core...
the one that draws the corners of my lips
involuntarily upward.
The kind of smile that's like daisies popping up on formerly
barren ground
in defiance of the harsh winter they've endured.
I'm chasing the refreshing parts of reality.
Searching for things most genuine...
the real diamonds that lie in plain sight.
A warm embrace of a soul that truly connects with yours.
The little victories that pass unnoticed by the turn of the earth...
the ones that I manage to catch just out the corner of my eye.
The freshness of something borne of the sole miracle of nature.
Things that I can only witness.
Things beyond my power to create.
Organic
Uncontrollable
Serendipitous
Simple
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
I spend most of my time wondering when I'm gonna get the guts to actually be the person that I pretend to be.
How can I forget the past six years?
The past 6 months?
How can I let the examples of my failures sit entombed in my impeccable photographic memory?
How can I let myself be my own biggest critic?
But the real question is... When will they all realize that I'm a fraud?
I've always known that I'm not brave enough to truly stand up to myself.
But how can I convince myself that maybe I can turn myself into a fraud of a fraud?
Maybe I can denigrate my own negations...
I'm going to turn the tables on my own demons.
I will triumph over their triumph.
I am a fraud of my own fraud.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
You infuriate me.
There. I said it.
I want you to disappear.
But you won't.
And somehow I just can't seem to make you.
You're in my photos.
You're still trampling uninvited through my thoughts.
There are still traces of you in my bed.
And sometimes if I fall too far into my memories I can still feel your body pressed against mine.
These are the parts of you that linger.
They are the parts that have stuck to me.
They have worked themselves into my puzzle.
But to my dismay, those are not all of the pieces to your puzzle.
There are gaping holes and backwards parts.
There are those shadows that you so carefully hid... the ones that I so carelessly fell into.
They are the ones that take me down and thrash me about.
And somehow I still find myself trying to fit us together.
But some parts of that puzzle would never fit.
Leaving our faults all too glaringly lit.
And when this all comes to it's inevitable end, I'll welcome the horribly empty feeling of being right.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
The November sun shone a bit brighter,
the rays on my face just a little bit warmer
and
I just couldn't help but ponder...
Did you call me here?
Tell me, did you put this bug in my ear?
Cause I haven't been here in so long
Almost like my memory held a fog.
But now somehow it's clear
You must have called me here.
A smile and a laugh.
The crunch of leaves over green grass.
Too much time has come to pass.
I left a flower on your grave,
and there I stood and prayed.
I'm glad you called me here.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
This is my resignation letter.
I have given up on any chance of you.
I forfeit my desire, my longing...
my wish to love you in the way that I do.
I now know that we are those two lonely ships
passing in the harbor at nightfall.
I am leaving...
heading out to open water,
the lonely, dark and deep sea.
And you...
you are heading into port
towards the strangers that hold
the same interest revelry that you do.
This is who we are.
These are our lots in life.
I can't make you come with me and
you can't make me stay.
I've come to realize that port will
freeze over before I am ready to return.
Making you a distant island
to which I have been
But cannot gain access to until the big thaw
many months from now.
My acceptance of this has made me
flexible, pliable and willing.
Willing to go discover new and far shores.
I will moor in a new harbor
and cast my anchor into the shallows of a new coast line.
I seek a new lighthouse seated on another point.
I seek a new dock and a new someone to help me tie down my lines
I was never meant to stay.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
As I glance up
I catch the clock ticking by...
another second gone.
And all at once the gravity of it all hits me.
The loss of one of many seconds in my life...
that one meant something.
It was something that belonged to me...
And I just threw it away.
I did nothing to grasp onto it,
nothing to do it any justice.
I just sat here and watched it tick past
and on to the next.
It wasn't special.
It was passive
meaningless
It is gone.
Forever lost to the passing of time.
And I begin to think...
Time takes away more than it gives.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
I can't say that I have ever been the jealous type.
But there is something about this that is setting fire to my veins.
It burns so brightly that it steals my breath to add fuel to the flame.
This is tearing me in two.
On one side, I burn and rage
and the other grabs my heart and quickly sets the stage for a deep freeze.
Ahh yes, that is a familiar feeling.
It has always been so much easier to fall back
onto a frozen silence rather than give in
to the impassioned roar of a searing flame.
I've always fought for myself,
bristling fiercely toward those who wish to step on me
or tear me down.
But now I feel myself boiling... wanting to fight for you too.
Yet, I know myself.
And I won't.
I will freeze myself off,
sealing out doubt and fear.
I'm an airtight vessel and I won't let you find your way in through the cracks any longer.
Be still my heart, and stay cold for yet another passing year.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 3:18 PM UTC
Last Wednesday I watched the first snowflakes fly
as I stood on a porch smoking yet another cigarette.
As each tiny, intricate crystal hit the ground and met its melty fate
I remember sending up a silent plea that this winter wouldn't bury me just like the last.
I stand braced for the cold,
holding my breath with the hope that
once I let it out there will be more to follow.
This season banks snow right up against the main doors leading to the warm parts of my heart.
All I can hope for is sufficient energy to shovel myself out from under
the crushing weight of the dark days
and snow laden road ways.
watching the winter arrive reminds me that I have a
long,
cold,
grueling
battle against myself coming right this way.
A part of me begs myself to hibernate...
to just sleep late into spring.
Instead I must prepare myself,
eyes wide,
Because trying to stop my winter is like
trying to hold back the tide.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
It is so fitting that its raining today.
These clouds came in on the coattails
of a full moon that I swear
lasted three days too many.
That moon threw my life into some sort of tailspin.
What was up was all of a sudden not where I remembered it to be.
Like the full moon had strung me up by the ankles
and hung me there until I began to believe
the sky had become the ground.
It was like a rogue wave sent from Poseidon himself
to capsize my ship,
to face my world toward the ocean floor.
I honestly don't know where I want to be anymore.
Now today, the sky falls on my face,
like the clouds themselves weep for my indecision.
My ground crashed down around me.
I think I will just lay here on my ocean floor,
for once in my life
I think I just don't care anymore.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC