if you take one step back…. .
You’re farther away from moving forward
to make the most of the time ahead of you
Because there’s no going back in time
to change choices or erase them
Because Memories would lose their meaning
And you grow through what you go through
To feel deeply and to learn intently
About the little moments that create the beautiful soul within yourself

and if you take two steps forward. ..
You can only learn more about what you’ve only dreamed of discovering
and there may be someone waiting there
To pull you farther into the future
Who holds your hand during hard times
And cries with you for the happy moments- the sad ones too.
Because it is better to feel everything than to never take the chance of feeling anything at all.

There is something to be said for those who
fail to fall asleep at night, and
practice patience to welcome mourning.

Here is where restless waters seem to silence.
Where shadows are cast by the sliver of the crescent moon. She is the
Tide's Matriarch who controls transcending vessels
Where friends and fathers float.
"Did you Hear that?"
A sudden splash- a glimpse of purpose for the patience and-
"There it is again."
He senses a whisper over his shoulder when the ship propels him forward with urgency. He stumbles until he falls back onto his feet.
He smiles, wiping away wave remnants from his cheek, and
baits another hook.

He looks around and casts in the right direction only to be pulled towards the left, so he leaves with everything
and nothing all at once.
He closes his eyes and sees faintly in the distance, two fishermen with Their muddied boots and caps pulled backwards. They laugh. They cry. "There" he whispers.

They're waiting and wishing while grasping tightly to the magic of
perfect timing.

Where if you let go, you'll surely miss the moments for
Forever memories.

she walks on water

the clock spins counterclockwise

blind-and now she sees

not to be confused with maraschino
cherries

reminds them of the pretty girl with the blond hair
who can tie that silly little stem into a
silly little knot
in attempt to catch the quarterback's attention
the one who failed to decipher
a quarter
and a dime
until he turned age ten
and that she was- a 10
rated on their silly little scale
weighing nothing but all the options

this makes the pretty girl irate
because she can do far more than tricks like that one
she won her fifth pageant just last week!
she sings- not just for fun and she's even going to college
to wear fancy navy blue suits with golden buttons
and cherry red lipstick
because she knows she can kiss far better
than the rest of 'em
silly little boys stained with dirt and wet grass
she'll know exactly when it comes time to rain
the moment she reports as the next weather woman
aired on channel 6

they'll watch her as they sip
slowly but surely on their wisers waiting
for commercials to cease
to see if she comes back around
in time for Sunday's game and the local diner
with the neon sign that can't be missed

but the sign is gone
she took it with her-dragged it down to break through
the pavement that gets too hot to touch in the heat of the
summertime

she's sure they'll miss it- the memories

and all they'll remember when they see pretty girls
with blond hair

is her perfume by moschino
and the cherry on top

she wears a satin gown to set the scene
imprinted with what appears to be roses
and as she begins to speak
she cries

tears are made of salt and water
which cures deep cuts
soothes surface level scrapes

have you ever tried to heal a scar?
the time it takes is almost never worth it
why waste the bandages on anything but blood?

have you ever run a red light?
in an instant- the fear meets the thrill
and that's where it gets dangerous
in her monologue

she talks about the color Red
and the fire that burned the bridges
built throughout her lifetime
a world plagued by make believe
cursed by empathetic magnetism

but she does believe in healthy living
wellness, grace and gratitude

she even eats an apple a day
like they told her as a kid in a candy store
only to waste tissues in her Tuesday appointments
with a woman whose name is probably just an alias
for a twisted identity that ends with a PhD.

have you ever picked roses off a bush
because you know it'll take a man too long to realize
that he should have paid for half a dozen?
(because now he pays for it)
well, now you're paying for it because the rose bush
isn't in your own backyard, but the neighbors
and the thorn catches you by surprise
drawing blood

she then numbs the pain with bottles
of red wine
(though she prefers a french white)
to her lips
stained by the madness of merlot
she cries

and we let her cry
as the audience applauds
they throw red roses upon the wooden stage
lit by her fire

her monologue concludes with velvet curtains

this cut (although not the deepest)
will heal soon.

he was a fool who thought he knew it all
and he could read her like a book

and when she couldn't read at all
he taught her how  
to sound it out

the As, the Es, Is, Os

you're only as old as you feel
in the very first grade
under a birch tree
born in Castle Comb
borne by angels
tracing letters in the name of the Lord

it was a Sunday morning
and when it started to rain
he took off his red and white
flannel shirt
and covered her as they walked away
from pastures
and into the parish

when the mass began
her mother handed her the bible
and when she opened it
to proverbs 13-15
she could only make out a couple of words

she looked for him when walking down the aisle
but what she didn't know
was he snuck out to the garden
because he loved her

and he would love her until the end of time

on their final days spent together
he gave her a tattered leather book
barely bound

and when she opened it
she found yellow tulip petals pressed
into the page

where she read

"in the heart of a man of understanding wisdom quietly rests, but she must make herself known to the inner self of fools"

proverbs 14:33

i sleep through the sunrise often

it’s a regret i know i’ll think about
when i’m older, wiser, when i would rather be sitting than standing
on the edge of youth
and if the current carries me
to a moment where i can no longer see clearly
but still can feel
fully
i’ll stare outside the window to the world turned upside down
where skies are bluer than before, but faded
in such a way that memories feel too

i hope i learn a thing or two.. or three about
hundreds of people taking little parts of me
and my heart
to leave me holding onto the railing
so i don’t fall
when i’m weaker than i was
balancing on the edge of my youth

there's a slight difference between
jumping and falling

i still don't know which hurts more
you fall 7 times, and i was taught to stand up 8.
so on the count of nine, i'll jump

off the deep end
into the abyss
between the heartbreakers
and the heartbroken

like brown beer bottles
one in a million
swallowed by the sea
all but damaged through such treachery
turned to treasure

captured by the innocent hands
of little girls
who collect mason jars full of these broken
pieces of wave washed glass

i try to catch as many sunsets as i can
and i even chase them if they'd just slow down
just for a moment
so i can pause to think about how good it will feel to fall
without jumping