Painters and poets and playwrights
Have spent centuries convincing us that
Grief yields greatness
Out of sorrow is born supremacy

But the truth is
Great men are great men
Despite their bleeding wrists
Despite the misery carved into their bones
Despite their cut off ears and their stillborn infants

Art is the favorite daughter of brilliance
Who melancholy so slyly tries to steal as her own
To showcase as a gem
Amongst her own worn-out children:
Agony and suicide and irreparablilty

There is no glory in weakness
There is no museum to honour
Pain rolled up in a corner
Willing itself to stop existing
There is no concert arranged for a man
Who furiously runs his bow along violin strings
To produce ear splitting screeches

You and I will not colour our broken hearts
Shades of crimson or indigo
Nor will our ink stained fingers supply a voice
To a tortured soul's invisible turmoil
Instead pain will turn us into a monster
Or a recluse
Waiting desperately for that lightning flash of epiphany
To convert what little is left of us
Into a factory that churns gold

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.

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I suppose it's better that way.
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So I wouldn't try to say "Hey"
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A hole grows larger in my heart.
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This is absolutely tearing me apart.
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I'm sustained by the memories I keep.
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And by the dreams that haunt me in my sleep.
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I hope you're doing alright.
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And that someone is appreciating you, holding you tight.
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I sit here and look at the sea
Just about a half mile from me.
This boy born next to Kansas
Never knew what an ocean was.

As soon as I saw it in front of me
I was moved by the peaceful sea
As wide as my eyes could see
And thought of the word ‘serenity’.

All my problems, worldly concerns
Were pieces of foolscap I could burn,
Multicolor ashes I would soon learn
Would blow away in own their turn.

So here am I now, moved away
From the world of my young day,
Nearer to the end as they way.
This is where I choose to stay.

It took decades from now to then
To live by the sea, beach and wind.
I feel grateful for the world I’m in.
An amazing place for my tale to end.

So, I’m going to stay right here,
In this very comfortable year,
Without worry or the old fears.
Gazing at the sea, it’s right here.

This boy born next to Kansas
Never knew what an ocean was.
I sit here and look at the sea
Just about a half mile from me.