a window of time:
wind sneaks in from behind like -
her breath on his neck.

a thousand miseries,
and countless trials.
****** footprints tracking bygone miles.
for all the times you traded a smile;
it’ll all be worth it,
after a while.  

spend some time with the guy in the mirror
you both have come a long way together
sure, he’s got a different hairstyle;
give it time - it grows on you,
after a while.

find a way to live through the pain -
like you’re on a burning train,
headed for The Elysian Fields,
where psalms of valor forever reign.  

soon, you’ll be on the other side:
grateful for the moment you died,
so you could feast with the Gods,
if only for a while -
then back to grind,
after a while.

a nervous 𝘵𝘴𝘬 of the lips
a little drop of sweat bulging at the neck
an eyelid flickering way too much
a mind that won’t change
a pillow that reeks of salt
a photograph of a distant memory
a fly buzzing around the plasma tube light
a buzz that won’t go away

a switch that won’t turn off
a stain that won’t dust off
a walk that’s unusual for the age
a kid who refuses to play

it’s the little things that give you away

the 'allure' of writing always starts with fancy words,
and ends after one sacrifices them at the altar of truth.

if you still must rely on words like 'allure' to make your point,
you're not ready.

remember, craftsmanship is mere virtuosity -
a great skill that may hide the lack of true perception in an artist.

now, before you go on to google 'virtuosity',
please write an honest line.

a glass of bourbon
unspent napkins on the side
the cheque is written

a line in the sand
waves falling short every time
jittery wrinkles

hello?
you there…?
i can’t hear you!
we haven’t talked in a while, it’s true.
thought i’d remind you - the rent is due.
maybe… have a shower, or two?

i wanted to -
let you -
know that i haven’t given up on you.
though i’ll admit, it took a lot of work -
to finally get through to you.

it was brave what you did,
and stupid at the same time;
thinking you could make the climb,
holding on to your gratuitous rhymes.

it takes a while to see what's wrong
with all the ways you've known all along;
it never hurts to take a little detour -
ask for help, when you're not too sure.

don’t be too ******* yourself,
take it easy.
not everyone will see, or get,
what you see.
move around -
pick up a book -
or better, a blank page.
let your purpose take the center stage.

just one thing before i go,
perhaps, it’s good to let a few things go.  
anyway,
thought you could use some counseling.
come to think of it,
were you even listening?
hello?
you there…?