My back has been sore the past week.
I’ve spent too much time
picking up pieces
that I should have left on the ground.
It’s okay to fall apart.
I’ve heard people say
you can put yourself
back together.
I say you can’t.
You must grow new pieces.
The old ones don’t fit.
They will never fit.
You must grow new pieces.
It will hurt.
It will take time.
But by the time you’re finished
you will be filled with
what keeps stars from burning up.
There will be nothing that can
dim your glowing heart,
nothing that can break your
burning bones.
No one will be able to steal
the sunlight in your fingers.
I know some nights will shatter you.
You will fall apart.
It’s okay to fall apart,
because you will grow new pieces.

The silence is deafening
Almost materialized
As he finalizes
One last good bye
How many more years will lapse? surpass so fast
At the speed of sound
With so much left unsaid
So much to regret
So much to over analyze
Time and time again.
The way your eyes meet mine
From across the room
Inevitable, yet that smile
Still renders me hopeless
Completely paralyzed
How words descend effortlessly from your lips
Yet speech escapes me
For how could words ever do justice to a smile
That zapps every cell
ignited
Electrified

Dear Shyla
I keep the suicide note that you've forgotten you wrote our mother folded up in a small wooden box in the corner of my bedroom
It's there so that on my worst days
When I've run out of friends who will listen
I can remind myself that other people feel this too
And after all we've been through apart sometimes our depressions and our mistakes are the only way I can remember we're related

Dear mom
I've hidden a diary you kept while struggling through your ill-fated relationship with my father
In it there are weight loss goals
Vows of marital celibacy
Existential questions
But mostly just a whole lot of why's leading you to answers you wanted to hear
While all of the things you needed to say you left in the blank spaces between the lines on the pages you never made it to
Your favorite thing to say after the divorce was that you were grateful to no longer have to walk on eggshells to protect his feelings
It has been twelve years and you still can't admit the feelings you were trying to protect were your own
And your feet still hurt

Dad
I have an envelope of pictures of you and I
From when both of us were oh so much younger
In each of them you are smiling at me
And in every one of them I am smiling back at you
I don't remember most of them I was quite very young
And for quite very different reasons I can imagine you would have a hard time remembering them as well
When I flip through the envelope I'm left sitting criss cross applesauce on a tore up linoleum floor
Staring at the scales of justice
Weighing the honest love of a drunk
Against the stoic rejection of the sober man you've become
And I am ashamed with how often I choose love

I am the keeper of this family's pain
Somebody has to
Someone has to admit it's real
One of us has to stare at the elephants in the room and see them
To know how each of us actually feels

Dear family
We are nothing more than four misfitted human beings
Tied together with tin can and twine telephones
By an astronomer, who in an effort to console himself,
Confused a congregation of lonely stars for a constellation
And eventually that is going to have to be enough
For each of us to love ourselves
To carry our own pain
I can not keep carrying all of this for each of you
I have my own pain
Which on most days is more than enough
I assure you
On most days
It is more than one man should

Run, fast
and don't look back
at the phantoms who chase you.

For if you look into
the darkness.
It becomes a part of you.

Your imagination
is the foundation of
your reality.

You can never be lost
if you follow the silver-cord trail
all the way home.

Back into
my arms
again.

Dueling duo
Entangled
Entwined
Within my mind
Find a way to hold on another moment longer
Which is stronger?
I hold my breath waiting to find out
Bloodied bout
A calm before the storm
A cold before the warm
A walk before the run
A cloud in front of the sun.

i woke up this morning
locked myself in the bathroom
with whiskey beer and netflix
a hot steam shower and
aching thoughts for a cigarette

they said be strong you'll make it in time
but all i see is a negative sum numbers game
ad infinitum forevermore on & on & on
another day another nicked nickel through my fingers

so instead of being a "productive" member of society
i'm drunk at 8:00 am and wallowing in self pity
but hey the shows are free
but this shower's gunna cost me

I am not real
I am only an illusion
Perhaps that's confusion

Imagine such a dilemma
All the Time believing
Yet a thought can be deceiving

Existence is subjective
This ink that you see
Isn't really me

So why be concerned
No need to discern  
Give no thought to agree...

This really isn't me.