My God, what a ******* gaping hole
sits inside of me today.
It eats at my sanity and
I'd like nothing more than
to fill it with *****,
and Bob Dylan's The Freewheelin' on vinyl.

When you're this alone no one calls
and if they do it's just the bill collectors
and they only want what you can't give,
much like everybody else.

I.
I spent the night trying
to stare god in the face
with a bottle of ***** and
a pack of cigarettes.
Michael laughed because
he says I keep looking for things
that can't be found.
I'm constantly setting myself up
for disappointment.

II.
The sky wore a starry face
and inviting as it may be
it was a reminder that the sun
will consume our planet one day  
and my son will be the only one that will
think of me for short periods of time,
at random moments, throughout some days.

...I guess that nothing else really matters.

III.
I have too many questions, Mother;
none which I really want answers for.
the truth is heavy and
I'm lifting my limit.
So will you just tell me it will be okay.

IV.
A drunken embrace has
left me with blues.
He said "I've never kissed a stranger."
and I asked him if he'd like to try.
Lips holding each other like hands;
It felt like EVERYTHING
to not be so alone for one moment.

V.
In your car,
a song playing on the radio,
every note caressed my memory
like a finger ran softly down my naked spine
and I felt for the first time in a long time
not afraid of everything.

I feel like an old poet;
soul and face in a ship wreck like state.
Into the ocean my beauty
over the rocks my wish to create
and no longer relevant
are the things my heart yearns to convey.

The kids, they used to love me,
man I used to be so cool!
As the crow's feet leave their mark
this broken heart just
makes me look like a god ****** fool.

No one to turn to,
no one read these wounded rhymes,
too much responsibility to just give up;
I'm left wanting to
but not actually drinking wine.

Like an old poet, these shaky hands
just want to love
to touch someone and to be touched.
Like an old poet I wish to never need to write a-gain
because the only feeling I know to express
is the deepest pain.

My birthday is in five days
and for the first time ever
it's not that I want to be alone,
it's just that I am.

I.
That stone is mine,
please do not touch it
I've been giving it love for so long.
I would hate for anyone else
to finally get its reaction

II.
I put my life on hold
just to be its home:
my arms the walls
my knees genuflecting its thrown  

...and the ceiling,
my crooked and aching neck bone.

III.
That stone is mine,
let me wipe off its dirt
So it could open its eyes
and see how much this hurts.
That stone is mine,
let belong to me,
I wanted to show it that
not everybody will leave.

IV.
And now, I dare not ask it
why it can not love me
because knowing
that it actually doesn't
would mean
I would have to set it free.

V.
That stone is mine,
I'll carry it by myself
because it can't be heavier
than what it weighs to be alone.

I
miss you
       at night;

when I tuck my feet in

they
  look for
    yours still.

It's getting close to Christmas
and I'm scared to be alone.

ii
resting on the ground;

i left the best parts of me

in your tousled room.

like the trash, disregarded,
they sadly collect your dust.

iii.
if they call your name

slide them under the couches,

quiet them for now.

amongst your things they will hide;
erased from your heart and mind.


.

My dear I fear the ocean will swallow my ship whole

…It's only a matter of time now.

I was once its great captain
but now I am merely its captive,
begging to no one to be set free.

I wish I was like you,
I would declare war on the merciless hands of the ocean
and lord knows I would win.

...if I was anything like you. I am not.

Although I know the water will burn
through my letters like fire,
instead of fighting,
I cowardly continue to compose the most beautiful words
that you will never see.

You're the only one that knows
that I am nothing like anyone here

And I know now that loss is the only kind of pain.