I am the person I recall.
I am sure of each memory
As thought-pictures fall
Inside the books of history
I keep inside my mind.
I gladly water the gardens
Of nostalgia I always find
When I think back to then.

These are beautiful blossoms
Of who and where I was
And most are wholesome
And are there for a cause.
They exist because I chose
To take a path I once saw
That brought something close;
I chose gee instead of haw.
And some beautiful person
I might never have met
Stood there in the distance
And I never would forget.

I am a middle class guy
From the vast middle west
Who never dared to try
To find out what was best
For me, and only me.
Who never knew the answer
Of how I could be free
Afraid to just go and wander.
So afraid, I would not wonder
Or hope or make plans
I was letting my life splatter
Out of my open hands.

Then a change came over me
In an ugly, icy winter storm.
“I could move myself westerly
And live where it is warm.”
So, I packed up my boyfriend
And my late model used car
And moved to the land’s end
Out with the television stars.
I got us a small bungalow
And started on a new way
To live and let my past go
And live from day to day.

I can’t say I got good very soon
At doing what I wanted to do.
Being brainwashed by goons
Can make lies of what is true.
And if the goons are parents
Who hate the person you are
Taking control of resentments
Is not like just starting a car.
I had to learn to like just me
And to turn my face away
From the catcalls and misery
That comprised my earlier days.

The boyfriend left and more
Came and went as he did.
So many I could not keep score.
I am sure some went and hid.
I was not much fun back then;
Greedy and needy and weak.
And, few wanted to brave the tide
And let their feelings speak
To tell me what a train-wreck
I had turned out to be.
Most just disappeared along my trek.
Yet, a few said words to aid
And I heard them through the noise
Of negative conditioning laid
On the heads of hated young boys.

Then I changed, having done
With banging my head against fact.
I began to see I was the one
To decide how I would act.
I learned to check with no one
To see what I would prefer.
I spent my time just having fun
And let circumstances occur.
I began to look around me
And notice the people who
Matched the words they said to me
And that their words rang true.

I learned some people walked
Exactly as they wanted to
And it was the way they talked.
And then, I suddenly knew.
I could just pass on by
The people that didn’t know how
And I didn’t have to explain why.
I can live in the here and now.

Brent Kincaid
4/9/2015

To the me who was young and didn't think it would get better,
It is to you that I write this heartfelt letter.
Thank you for holding on when things were rough,
It just proves that you are insanely tough.
Thank you for being so level headed,
I know there were many times that you surely dreaded,
But keeping a clear mind,
Shows that you are one of a kind,
And not much can over take you.
No matter how blue,
You feel,
There are a few things I know to be real,
You are kind, funny and smart,
And you have a pretty big heart.
Although sometimes it doesn't feel okay,
Please know that it will one day,
Because you cannot grow with just all rain.

Fear wakes you up.
My arms scrape the branches as I climb.
I feel the dry earth beneath my feet.
Never more excited, never more afraid.

The blossoms dance down,
Pink,
And I can feel the heat as I tremble,
Imagining the jump.

The ravens taunt me-
They say I won’t do it.
Maybe I won’t.
But then I would miss the joy of falling.

My wild, blonde curls
Get snagged in the trees- ow!
It will be worth it.
I remind myself it will.

Little critters squeal at me,
Some in encouragement, some not.
I reach for the comfort of my fluffy pillow,
Who isn’t there.

I’ve reached the top.
I can touch the sky.
Violet, blue, yellow, orange.
The perfect mix.

I’ve forgotten my fear, my worries.
I am invincible.
It’s just me, the cliff, the water, the sky.
Freedom.

As I walk to the edge, I feel soft grass
Beneath my feet.
There is still some of the morning’s dew
Though that was so long ago.

Now, ***** and wet,
I carefully walk to the edge.
In, out.
In, out.

Do it, I tell myself.
Go.
So I do.
I jump.

I have to say-
the best part is falling.
For just a moment, I feel free again-
Not scared. Then everything floods back.

I thrash and scream-
Then I’m in the water.
Swimming, breathing.
Laughing.

I’ve conquered the cliff-
And the jump.
And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that
fear wakes you up.

I made
a beautiful space
in the corner
of my shade,

turned venom
into lace
and raced away
from your hate,

swirled quicksand
with my tired hands,

petted pretty vipers
that hissed,
slithering
to where I stand,

chased fireballs
that were ready
to consume me.

I pursued
my own agony,
bit my tongue
to taste
my own blood,
then spit it out
not in spite
but to watch
the red grow.

I wept in
the spider’s den
embedded in
a cloud of webbing.

I slept in
the sinking ship
that fell into
the cold underwater
abyss.

I lay afraid
to move
and died in
the infinite
eternal
black
that was once
beautiful,
until
it collapsed
and took
all the warmth
I ever had
back.