Even when I was young,
I knew things,
perceived things you didn't think I could.
I knew it was time to stop talking,
when that distant look suddenly crept into your eyes.
I knew it meant you weren't really there anymore,
you'd traveled back in time.
I learned quickly,
there are some things you don't ask a man.
Ever.
As I've grown I've learned more,
still probably without your knowing.
I know when you attempt sleep,
memories you've learned to shroud from light of day,
spring forth and reign terror on your dreams.
A grotesque cinematic beyond my imagining,
yet all too real.
I know why you struggle with people,
and with crowds.
I know to you,
anyone and anything could be an enemy, a hazard.
I know to this day you see blood on your hands.
I wish you knew your sons do not.
I know when you look in the mirror you see a monster.
A younger you, with hollow eyes
and as you once so eloquently said,
"A smile that speaks, of death delivered"
I wish you knew,
to your sons you stand a warrior.
Tried but unbroken.
I know you didn't want to go.
I know a part of you died there.
I can hardly fathom,
how deep it cut to return home labeled a murderer, and worse.
So much guilt already on your shoulders.
But I know you've never gotten over it.
I just wish there was a way to tell you,
it is not your fault.
You did the best you could,
you did what you had to do.
Maybe someday you'll understand,
You are not what happened there.
Maybe someday I'll find a way to tell you,
The war is over, dad. Come Home.

To awake rested, yawn and
get up on the
completely right side
of the bed.

a full, healthy breakfast,
quality coffee.
good news headlining
the paper.

the smell of a bathroom after
a woman has spent time
getting ready for a
night out.

words of kindness from a friend.
such things I adore.
...but I love
poetry more.

a fully comprehensible manual.
a love letter post-it note,
or a book on something
hysterically interesting,

like psychology or history.
music of the kind that you welcome
sticking to your mind for a
whole day.

these things make my day for sure.
...but I love
poetry more.

her hands on me, warm with
sleep as she reaches over and
sighs between dreams.
yes. he's still here...

waking up with her hair in
my face, falling asleep on the
sofa with my head on her legs
the way a dog warms its owner's

feet with itself while resting.
not feeling like myself when
she's further away than the
next room.

hard to not shake
when she cries.
impossible not to laugh when
she laughs,

and to not want her
when she
wants me
to.

****. it's plain to see.
...I love her
more than poetry...

Maybe

Maybe* she won't cry today,
And maybe he won't lie today,
And maybe life goes on today,
But maybe I'll be wrong today.

Maybe I'll be strong today,
And maybe tears won't fall today,
But maybe he'll break down today,
Because maybe she won't die today.

Maybe things get better today,
And maybe I'll write the letter today,
Maybe I'll sign my name in ink,
But maybe that's a permanent link.

Maybe that's too much for me,
Maybe "attached" is something I don't wanna be,
And maybe it'd be painful to watch,
Over the years; Death's painful march.

And maybe she'll go down today,
And maybe things won't be okay,
And maybe he'll give up and say,
That maybe he'll just run away.

But maybe I'll just cry today,
Maybe that's a better way.
Maybe that's my job today,
Maybe I'll just try to be okay.

Because maybe it's important to grieve,
And maybe it's okay to leave,
A little room to be left for me,
A little time to simply breath.

Maybe I should put myself first,
And maybe it wouldn't be the worst,
To maybe just take care of me,
Instead of being the one in lead.

*Maybe.

I can see myself
destroying
my own dignity,
popping it like
bubble-wrap
and watching as it
deflates
under my
forcible
fingertips.

tell me how my eyes
told you things words never could
how you could dance
to the sound of my laughter
how my hands were
the anchor of your sanity
how when i slept
the world was a little less bright
how my smile stopped time
then tell me how forever
ended so quickly

Duct tape, bubble wrap and chocolate brownies don't fix everything
but they don't hurt, so my grocery list is gonna be weird for a little while.