I tried to run away to a far away land,
where the grass was greener,
and the responsibilities leaner.
I ran from the ghosts,
I ran to foggy coasts.
I ran from the memories.
I ran from our mistakes.
I wanted a new me, whatever it takes.
But life, as she often does, had a different plan in mind.
Now I have to say I'm a little less blind.
I have discovered my god,
no not the one you're thinking of.
I found "it" in the history here.
I connected to souls I now hold dear.
I found solace in the here-after in the stones of cathedrals.
I found hope in stone glass windows.
I found peace in battlefields.
I also found pain.
It poured down like rain.
It took my breath away,
trying my best to keep the night at bay.
I no longer fear the ghosts back there.
I fear being stuck in the metaphorical here.
I've now been unwanted,
seen a love be haunted.
I've finally stood up for myself.
Even if they think I have totally fallen off the shelf.
I have embraced my flaws,
finding the power in their claws.
I have gained respect for those waiting for me.
I have learned a new definition of free.
I learned it isn't in the lack of responsibility
but in my magnificent ability.
I find freedom in the doing,
in the dream I'm pursuing.
Here I am.
Tired of fighting.
Tired of running.
Flying home.

Today was a day with a slight mind adjustment.
A hint of intoxication really clouded my judgement.
I continued without a thought and did cause some ruckus
I've scarred a friend for life
and it gets harder to stomach.

Today was a scandal and now it's too late to go back.
I have done the wrong thing and I cannot believe in the lack
of judgement, in myself;
I don't think I can stand it.
A needle with ink against skin
cannot be fixed with a bandage.
It's the shame that will be the permanent damage.
And the longer he has it,
he will realize how he had once taken
that body for granted.

"More squirrels"
She exclaims
And I wonder what
In the world
Could it be
This particular time!?*

It usually starts like this...

Every once in a while
I find her
Lost
In her own thoughts
Gazing
At nothing in particular
But everything
At once.

At times
Like these
She is a genius
Gone crazy.

I catch a glimpse
Of those star-bound eyes
And try
To guess
The stride
Of her imagination
Without
Much luck.

Could she be thinking about…
A universe made entirely out of glass?
Why humans don’t have a tail
Anymore?
Reasons behind love at first sight?
Or what to name the 3rd butterfly
She saw today?

In her picture perfect
Stillness
I can viscerally sense
A divine flow
Of thoughts
And it evokes in me
The wonder
That one experiences
While watching
A calm river flow
Knowing
Turbulent currents
Are ever present
Just hidden
Deep inside.

If I
Shake her vigorously
I know for sure
At least 23 ideas
And 47 musings
Will fall around
And we will
laugh hilariously.

But I dare not
For the fear
Of my life.
She is an artist
Painting
With her imagination
And you
Don't disturb artists
Do you?

Once she’s back
To the material realm
She comments
Randomly
About how we need
More squirrels
In the world.

I almost always
Immediately concur.
Then slowly ask
“why?”.

She gives me
One of those looks.
Like the ones
You give your dog
When it’s looking
At you eating food
And you’re deciding
If you should
Give it a small bit
Or not.

If I am
persistent enough
She gathers
All her thoughts
And illustrates
With one of the most
Amazing stories
The important role
Of squirrels
To save our
Doomed world.

After listening
To her
Seemingly logical
And
Completely weird
Stories
I nod obediently
Then carefully
Check
If her coffee
Has something mixed in it.

The gesture
Makes her
Burst out in laughter
Every single time.

And we repeat this
Day after day
Night after night.

I'm so used to it
That now
Even if I hear
"Cement flowers"
"popcorn candies"
Or
"balloon bullets"
I am mentally prepared
To understand
The story
Behind all of it.


That’s how it is.
She keeps daydreaming
About stuff
And I keep dreaming
about her.

Ignoring me is the worst thing you can do.
What's alarming is you know this too.
Yet, you still continue to read my texts and not reply;
Then make up an excuse, like I don't know it's a lie.

I supply your heart with the love you need,
but you keep me waiting on one knee.
Is it because you know i'll always come back?
Maybe I shouldn't have let you in on that fact.

So I'll wait a few weeks for you to reply,
and act like it's okay, even though that's a lie.
When will I ever speak up, and let you know the deal?
Probably never, and that's the problem; I don't think you care how I feel.

-

and I am content
to keep dreaming
forever until death