I can no longer write


            my pen only drips with anger

moving past the foliage
I smack back
the tangled brush
a strange truth revealed
my emotions in a rush
Here I am
in this hell-hatched bind
braced against the winds
grasping at shards
           of the Divine
for they're inside me,
all those pieces
jagged glass and soft meringue
my innards humming
shades of the blues
in offbeat notes of pain
and I know that deep within
between my earthly
beats of heart
resides a light that's
only mine
that slices through
this drape of dark

It's a heavy nightcloak breaking
as I reach out from
                     the abyss
praying for the comfort
of my soul's
bright morning
                kiss

If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.

I remember all the best
Deep in my midnight's rest
Now I remember the kiss
that brings tears to my eyes
I remember riding bicycles
Under October skies
Now there is no chance
No turning back
Or looking back to glance
Because you will not be there

So the memories have been
Written off the page
The recovery has all been staged
Turn your head and say
To the ghosts of another day
I wish you well
Just as when we were all so naieve
In our wildest dreams
we never thought to learn to grieve
Now all I can say . . .
I wish you well

I see you,
In greater conversations
And small
Talks,
Lost in time,
But,
Weighted in a reality,
That the years
Exist,
Through small lines,
Near your eyes
Are histories,
That most miss,
I see you,
In stanzas of songs,
Reminding you
Of home,
Nights of sweat and smoke,
Paired with a hopeful abandon,
Of living forever
But praying for death
By
Their kiss,
I see you,
In prose and rhymes,
Of books upon books,
With eyes heavier than
The pride,
You wish you saw in your father's,
The legs sore,
Because you forgot what it's like
To not try to run,
I see you,
In the moments,
In the
In between,
The indescribable
Deep breath photographs
That make up the flashes
Of phone calls and razors edges
On linoleum,
With Fate's scissors
Being put back in the box,
I see you,
Through the hidden smiles,
That convey a sense of mystery,
Forcing my uncontrolled
Outbursts,
To see what other
Smirks and eye rolls
That even you are surprised
When they are uncovered,
Like the gaunt archeologist
I treasure them,
And put them on display
At my memories museum,
I see you,
In the days
You are away,
When shirts and the sounds
Of morning coffee contemplations
Are the only things
Keeping me sane,
I see you,
In future momentary messages,
And past years pudding proof,
That with all the moments,
Yet lived,
That
Will let me,
See you.

What if there were no god to whom would we pray? Where would you go when trouble comes to call? Would many people even miss god at all? Perhaps little by little this is happening anyway. Perhaps there is no God because we are driving him away.