I remember thinking, as a child
Will I ever really own my own life?
On my tiptoes to see him, me,
my, reflection... Odd though, I'd thought.

To Ask. And Answer? Him, Me,
the little-mirrored one;

"What would that be like?"

40 years and I still can't answer the question...
Tilting my view saw through you.
Though your ability to deceive,
Took more than a few degrees.
Passing that threshold threw me
I won't lie to protect or grow the ego
Inside, where next to it lays fragile strings
Sore and worn and one note more
Strummed, to break if not your song cease
Those beautiful compositions you play
Telling sweet, self-serving manipulations
Crafted and performed perfect, to a silent audience, caught up in and controlled
Each and every heart and this one
That owned the stage from
which they held you in spotlights
As such talent as you have honed
To masquerade as respect, devotion
Now clearly seen as scripted and rehearsed
Lies and disrespect, complete bulkshit
Boo you and so begins that fall from grace
To lay my torn up hands
Upon the porcelain past
Cold against the callouses

All but within my chest

Broken glass is the time we had
Grains of sand falling always
our words shifting too fast

lonesome, knowing approaches

Where hindsight provides
The vastness embued by when
Here in a now unwanted

All but in my chest unnoticed

Borrowing tears from better versions
While choking on the words I use
Dreams hold more weight certainly

These hours I stay tragically on then
Far off and away days feel and echo in

Any but this person I spoil my nights with
Nonfunctioning and spilkjngly incoherent
Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2018
I am so very, very tired
So long have I been at this
I see it is My turn, so tired
Long past due I let it go
This weight that my heart hordes
So much so that it knows no other's
You should know, I own the burden
Though it is imbued by You
My heart is unbending in its loyalty
Knows no technicality or view
Only You, that so very, very long ago
Woke in my breast the love
In turn became a world
My heart can't see Me destroy
And every day, so many nights,
So very many times I have known
Dreams from which my heart speaks
Each it calls out for You, you alone
Dreams are not weightless
As foolishly I once believed,
One, a few, even hundreds,
Difficult to notice when added
As life, living, the toll those carry
For so long, so very, very many nights
And I am tired, I confess at the threat of collapsing, and through the taxing of time
Being alone, incapable of loving
No other, I have tried and they knew
The weight my heart holds for you
Long past due I confess I still Love You
Unlike You, my heart never sought new
Never wanted any but You
Causing haunted dreams,
and shall I think forever
This is my hearts letter,  
my attempt to move on,
But never over... You.
Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2018
I finally took a hard look
Seeing myself as I seem to be
To Her eyes, the same as she must
That very moment
she decides
She walks away.
Jack R Fehlmann Nov 2018
Shouting without sound
So deafeningly envelopes
My mind a dizzying compound
Voices uniquely all my own
Circles and incessant banter
Back and forth praises some
Criticism seemingly echo
So frequent to nearly permanent
Dangerous self-appraisals
Most are exposed and understood
Systematically picked apart
discarded seen for what they were
Countered conscious affirmations
Feeling weak in the chaos
Introspection's melt to
Familiar jingles implanted
******* commercials are effective
I many dialogs in my charge
Honestly 90 percent of unheard
Or forgotten as quickly as the next thought
struggle and circles and lost articles
This is my mind, inside voices
All my sides and fears and guardian words
choices, ponderings, and resignations
No wonder terrible migraines viciousness
They create order and pinpoint focus
Every voices subject and order reigns
Pain does this duel edge solution
And i have found my own hands
Given the freedom to manipulate or create
Without a voice directing quiets my
Mind my dialogs turn to strings
Easy to appreciate, acknowledge
And i am zen-like in this watching
My hands create a peace I've thought fabled
So i tinker, i take apart, rather do appendages
Paint, or mold, sculpt or scribble upon paper
Coax words into my own form of poetic function.  Hands busy puts me into a place i run to often.  This is a result that written out i smiled and i listened to each line as i typed
Content and quite in appreciation.  Hope you like it.
Jack R Fehlmann Nov 2018
With applicated force
Pressure builds upon the wheel
So the wheel obeys
Turning as it does  
It grinds upon a stone
Throwing red hot embers
Creating light from invisibility
Ill use this miracle
Borrow from flame, heat
To do an awful thing
Breathing in that does
Create the holes
The space from me
To the rest of the you
Fueling my mind as it drills its holes
Aging the reflection as it does
Going along these thoughts
Too weak to do differently
As the glass holds
My worst sort of mistake
The foretold end to this machine
So then I can be free
Next page