i am on deck
waiting for my pitch
get off your pickle, pitcher
and throw me some of your curve *****.
do not hide in your dark dug-out,
the game is just heating up.
do not get antsy
and calm those frayed nerves.
just listen to the cheers,
them jesters don't matter.
deep breaths, focus, you are a champ
give me a slow one,
or a high fast.
so, you throw off the plate
i could not care less
just lemme see you try
flex those strong arms
up on your **** on the mound.
so get up, get going
let me hit a long one
so i can run around you
and make you smile.

i want to tell you 
how i hate what you do to me.
you let me cling to you like a child
starve me, **** my air 
and then come prancing around
like nothing happened.
and when i moan and groan for attention
you make me feel like a spineless sucker,
miserable, passive-aggresive sonafabitch.
and yet, i am helpless
******* defeated by your charm.
i am the most logical person i know.
yeah, right.
i hate that you could not see this,
nor do I.

she sways her head when she sings
and it is lovely.
her hair falls a little to the side
like curtains opening to my show,
and her eyes dances with the song,
so endearing, so fulfilling.
and from her  lips, the words let out
the melody forgiving
is music to my ears. 
i am entranced, transfixed, bewitched
as love would have me. 
and the world is once again alright.
i know not what she is singing
but it is good to hear.
there is nothing unnoticed
by a heart so starved with details.
there is no beauty far greater
than what i behold 
when you sing.
So sing for me, love
And sway your head a little bit more
as we stare at each other's eyes...

you are hard to reach 
into the hole you crawl into.
i do not look forward
to these ****** moments
when you dwell in your fits and rages
soaking in your silence
to find your balance.   
tormenting yourself alone
is exhausting
for those who watch.
you are a cold ******* 
when you just don't ******* care.
i wish i could feel the same.
not give a ****,
what the **** do i care.
you came without a manual
i have to learn to ride your storms
put up with your *******.
it's messy sometimes
throws me off-kilter, 
me, the organized me.
i have to be crazy doing this
but i end up ******* about it
waiting anxiously for you to sober up
when i am the one drunk.
go figure.
i cannot change you.
i cannot change me.
it is just exhausting sometimes
these moments of seeing you 
in holes you dig yourself into
leaving the rest of the world
with the finger.
gotta learn to leave you alone
till you give a ****.
till something gives.
love *****.

once young and lost,
i stood in the shadow of my father
as the sun gently set yonder,
and felt his greatness slowly blend
into the silence of the dusk.
the son is the measure of the man,
i learned soon enough.
he of humble earth
has borne his mark in his days, his ways.
and with awe and a young heart
i embraced his love for life amidst his chaotic disorder,
his lust for living, a joyful journey
of unexpected twists and turns.
i looked back then, keenly, at the road he travelled
so i could, and must run parallel
but reluctantly, then with surrender
still let his light cast away my demons.
and yet, i have time again reached out
for those strong wise hands.
and his face, worn and weary
i often curse and then gather with my hands.
and somewhere down all of this
i pause in silence... and marvel
how i have become my man,
struggling with his love, his vows and vices,
his victories unnamed, his sadness sublime and deep,
the measure of his man,
the sanctity of his name.
and i am completely forgiving of him
as i pray he is, and will, be of me
when our roads merge together
in the last leg of this trip.
i long to embrace you
and stand in your towering shadow
and claim your name
as mine.