the words on the page
looked better in my head.

i come from the land of the nowhere men,
far away from these shores,
a place serene and tranquil,
where a centuries-old peace stands vigil
over tomorrow.
you have known my people,
for we often stray to your borders,
to experience the world, and taste its many wonders.
many are lost to it,
seduced by the lures of decadence and plenty,
where want is cherished and need ignored,
the many made less important than the few,
and words like privilege have meaning only to those who have none.
your world frightens me,
haunts me,
interests me and beckons to my very soul,
and i like to think i always win -
but i don't belong here.
i feel the air of your land, and it sickens me,
fills me with dread and longing for simpler things,
and i know that if i don't leave soon,
i will be crushed by the weights and expectations of it.
i must return home,
to my land,
to nowhere.

i said a prayer once before,
many years ago, when i was foolish,
and i saw the world unfold from a distance,
like the setting of the sun seen in a rear view mirror.
i was powerless,
and though i tried,
there was nothing i could do.
i asked God to take my life that night,
in lieu of hers.
i don't know why we were both spared.
maybe that's what it takes -
maybe we all need a martyr
to lay down their life in lieu of our own,
someone who loves us enough,
who shouts at the oncoming storm,
"TAKE ME AND LET THAT ONE ALONE!"
but i don't know which is worse -
both sides must deal with loss.

i want to feel the supple skin of her legs
as they glide over my nakedness,
trapping me, enticing me with the heat
of her ***,
her face in ecstatic jubilation,
as another's hands caress her ample *****,
knowing her flesh,
and i reach for him,
my mouth wanting, needing to taste
what i have only dreamed about
in the privacy of my bedroom
when the lights are out.
they lean in for a ***** kiss and it pulls him closer,
three becoming one, joined in thrilling
movements,
a fever pitch arises
and we are made whole.

they call it Heaven
because you cannot hear hearts break.

a body lies there,
real enough -but it doesn't represent the man
who changed a thousand lives
with his smile and love.
a man i never met,
but through the effect he had on others,
and they still receive me as family.
what does one say
to a grieving widow and her children?
what does one do when listening
to her crying as her great love lies
in the casket?
Nothing.
There is nothing to do
but join in the grief,
relive stories,
keep the memory alive
of a man i never met.

my head pounds.
thoughts drifting in and out,
forcing themselves upon me,
toying with my emotions
until i imagine things that aren't there,
poisoning my mind
with what ifs -
questions i can never hope of answering.
a torrent,
unceasing barrage against me,
beating and pushing me,
down, down again,
threatening to bury me,
secret me away from the reality,
and i'm tempted to let it win,
stop fighting upstream,
and be carried away to places i have never been....

and the still small voice whispers, "trust."

and the raging waters subside again.