It is all for naught, I say
this push and pull
the lies and the promises
all for naught!

It has given nothing
and takes things when it leaves
hidden things
secrets and dreams

why so cruel, hope?
why must you be so cruel?
'Tis all for naught

Sadness isn't just one emotion
      it's a blanket
                   that warms the others
                                Warm, how unusual
            yet all my sadness
                               is never cold
                                                            ­                              never cool
                  I like things that are
                          cool
   and I do not like sadness
                               no, to me it is warm
                                     uncomfortably so
         as though lit by the fires of a hell I don't believe in
a torment in false hopes
         hope that is so warm
                just like sadness
                                       which is like
               hope and despair
              seasoned with twinges of guilt
                             and anxiety
  like the horrid blush that comes
when you've done something naughty
burning so hot you fear your face
     will melt
         that is what sadness feels like
                                                            to me
   wretched and horrid and never enough shame
       So silly, to think there's something that ought to go with it
                                              as though sadness itself were not enough

         perhaps they were right
            you can become addicted
                        to a certain kind of sadness
           like a drug of sorts
  a chemical cocktail you brew in your mind
          to douse your feelings when you don't want them
      because sadness is safe
                                                 it's familiar
                                                        ­                                        and you know how to deal with it


                                        so you think

                      even as it eats you alive from the inside
              you think you can control it
                         that you can stop whenever you want
                                and that's the lie of it
                                                        becaus­e
                                                        sadness
                           isn't just sadness
        it's everything else we don't need
                                     don't want
                            
         shame
                         remorse                                  
                                                     regret       
                              fear

          ­                   why hold on to them?
                         yet I can't seem to stop
           it pulls me back
addicted to the drug of familiarity
       funny, I think, to be addicted to shame
                                   touted so long as something to shy away from
         that regret is not worth the effort
   and remorse a thing
to let go of
        yet here I am
clasping them in my hands
  breathing life to them
      when they wither
terrified when they are gone
       a curse that I know will return
                     so why wish for it to leave?
           A life can be lived in the warmth
                          not a good one, albeit
                    but a life
                        instead of a lie
                     an addiction to sadness
                                 rather than
                         happiness
          at least I shall never be disappointed.

Give me just a moment
I'll be right with you
even though this is my job
I still make you wait
because I can't lose
my sense of POWER
of the time I hold over you
because time is money
and money is everything
so I'll take just a moment
or all the time I need
to make you feel insignificant
unimportant
as though you do not matter
because in this moment
this space in time
I am God
and I control your fate
even if
for just a moment.

My home is on a lake
a small thing
almost ordinary
for this part of the world
but my lake is special
it is different
for through my windows
is magic
the sunrise is here
which for here is odd
since we are accustomed
to the sunset of the lake
Michigan, that is
here in the southwest
known for our sunsets
but my house has a secret
we get a sunrise
every day
over our little lake
so much magic
in the colors
the wind
the reflections
my father prizes those days
the mornings where the lake is like glass
so smooth and reflective
it catches every color
as though we had TWO sunrises
and I think it is special too
because of him
but to me
the best part of a sunrise
is that I see it
the colors I could not imagine
stretching as high as I can see
as far as the sky is long
such COLORS!
the clouds of their blue-gray
visible in the earliest light
then the stain of red, like fresh blood
a small, uneven half-circle
where the sun will inevitably rise
it turns to pink
the dawn is coming!
pushing warm colors before it like a dozer
oranges and pinks grace the morning
who needs a silver lining
when the clouds give me wonders?
and when the sky seems to take no more
there is the sun!
bright, warm, glowing, pulsing
full of life, and light, and burning
I can't stare at it, even though it is beautiful
the beams refracting off the water
the light is uncomfortable
as though something were staring
watching me watch the sunrise
so many nights have bled this way
darkness receding as the light takes over
but I never regret it
I know it will not last
one day I will leave here
and never return
and this magic will be lost to me
so I enjoy it
even though no one understands
I do not care
this is my moment
my sunrise
every new day
is MY new day
a gift
the most beautiful gift
and I know it
appreciate it
acknowledge it
because in this life
this short, unbearably minute life
such magic is rare
a mystery
glorious and ephemeral
when it is gone from me
given to someone else
I will miss it
so now I treasure it
so that I have no regrets
because this is my home
the only home I've ever known
a house
on a hill
by the lake
bathed in a sunrise.

I love too openly
Feel too freely
Never tricked by my heart
But gently persuaded
The 'what if' looms
High and powerful
Tangled with promise
And all I can think is
What do I have to lose?

Not much
It would seem
Though I do suspect
That I often abandon
What little sense was given me
For high hopes
And drowning dreams
I can pray all I want
But they are just words in the wind
And I am still a fool

I am awake, so tired
reaching for the alarm
I have overslept
with a shrug I continue
rising to the day
ignoring the birds
forgetting the feel of sunshine
Just.  So.  Tired.
As though a drag has been
attached to my feet
to my very mind
useless, less than useless
yet ever present
I don't make coffee anymore
it never helps
nothing helps
nothing except the sweet release
of sleep.
But I can't always sleep
I must live, must walk about
even if I am only a zombie.
I skip breakfast
no longer hungry for food
or anything else for that matter
I dress in the usual
slacks and button down shirt
trouser socks and loafers
What a boring look
but boring is the new business
and we can't all be like Michael Douglas
from Wall Street
Just.  So.  Tired.
My days drag on, one after another
until the only identifier
is the date at the top of my emails
I don't care if it's Monday or Friday
what do I have to look forward to?
Nothing, that's what.
Nothing
and sleep.
I can't wait to go back to sleep.
By the time I punch out
it's all I'm thinking about.
I'm not concerned for my empty stomach
or that I missed lunch
and I probably won't eat dinner.
I didn't shop for groceries
so I'm not even sure if there's something to eat
and quite frankly, I just don't care
I just want to sleep.
Because when I sleep, I dream
and while not all of them are good
every once in a while
I have a dream that fills me
fulfills me
reminds me that I had other kinds of dreams
once.
Sometimes these little dreams motivate me
and I'll remember to shower
to eat
to buy new shoes
sometimes these dreams break through the fog
and I live for those moments.
So fleeting, so rare
Sigh
Just.  So.  Tired.

Oh succulent mushrooms
how I do love you!
Such a little hafling I am
eating my mushrooms
as though I too had hairy feet
Why anyone would you think
that you smell or taste like death
is beyond me
For in my experience
what tastes like death
often has that in its happening
meat cut up by the butcher's knife
The essence of the smell
and the best of all its scents, to be sure
I have smelled death, and the dead
And not just those perfumed in parlors
covered in the sweet-smelling powders
That is not death, it is a lie
death smells like shame and fear
of things that happened which I cannot imagine
death does not smell like earth
it never smells like life
mushrooms are of the dirt
and scent as such and more
of loam and forests and creatures alive
it smells like childhood and mud
mushrooms are not like death at all
death roams the light, taking and giving
with impunity
mushrooms are things of the dark
growing in the dampness of life
like little umbrellas against the world.

It only takes once
just one time
to change the course of history
one moment
which alters everything
Just one breath
a word, a whisper
a certain kind of persistence
And then all the horrors
of the past
forgotten

I've been a fool
and I've been blind
ignoring the ground
beneath my feet
or the sun in my eyes
thinking to stride
proud and tall
from start to finish
as though confidence
were all that mattered

Faithless pride
displayed but not believed
a thin facade
which I hid behind
why show the world your face
when they only call you ugly?
I'm ****** if I do
and ****** if I don't
why do they care so much anyway?

Just leave me alone
it was my decision to hide
to run away
dragging along my pride
as if it alone could save me
sometimes my stupidity
is amazing

No one is an island
because we're all drowned
drifting along
like lumps of wood
drenched to the bone
with emotions and feelings
wrapped up in our minds
and choked with a false sense of reality
****** with too much pride

I should stop
take some time to listen
to hear what I say
and realize what that means
I didn't before
I won't now
why bother
I spend so much time analyzing
trying to say the right things
to be true to me
while placating the world
and nothing ever really works

I'll always be ****** if I do
and ****** if I don't.

Till the world ends
and a little while beyond
higher than the stars
deeper than the darkness between
Wholly in the moonlight
during the daytime too
and it has nothing
to do
with you.

I write some words
Full of suffering
Of a wounded heart
A broken soul
So moving and yet
blase

I am not this pain
that filters through
It is part of me
but it is not me
I am so much more
so much more than pain
I am love, and understanding
laughter and wonder
I find so much beauty around me
yet when I write
All I speak of is pain

This is not who I want to be
This pain does not own me
even if it is what I feel right now
pain is temporary
It will pass quickly
but my life will not
At least not as fast
I am full of love
even if it is marked
by suffering
I know I am not alone

These words
that I am writing
they are my pain
and are part of me
but they are not all
of me

Oh this is a dangerous game
Like playing chicken
with hand grenades
All you have to do is get close

So dangerous that there is a thrill
Hanging by fingertips
that are starting to chill
One slip and you're a goner

You say it so casually
"Mine."
As though by saying it
Then it is meant to be
You repeated it when I
Denied
For I fully know you are not
"Mine."
Our history forbids it
All sources say against it
How could we begin again
With everything left so unsaid
You still hurt
And still seek others
Then describe what you want
It's me
And you know it
And still want it
And want it to not be me
I'd say go **** yourself
But I wouldn't really mean it
In spite of your stupidity
And avowed non-commitment
I still love you
I'm willing to let you hurt me
Because when you leave
I want you to see this time
That under no circumstances
Did you tell the truth
When you said
"Mine."

Seven days of circular arguments
      Six days of taunt anxiety
              Five days of happy remembering
                      Four days of bitter worries
                              Three days of attempted calm
                                       Two days of waiting to speak
                                              One day of rampant surprise
                                                   Amazing how fast the days go by
                                                         Twenty-eight days in one little week
                                                            ­   I'm so exhausted I can barely think!

I don't know how this came to be
How I forgot myself in your eyes
Something happened after I left that day
That made all of the good things vanish
Or is this my illusion?

You said you cared and I believed
What is wrong with me?!
How could I forget who you really are
So fickle and indecisive
Unable to face up to what you feel
Though what it is I'm not entirely sure
That you even know

I listened to you, even after you were gone
I listened so hard that I changed
I understood things I hadn't before
I grew up
Every day I would hear your voice
Chastising, lecturing
And still you were right
About everything
So I changed, and I learned, and I listened.

Then you couldn't let me go
I was content to smile at you
To talk to you
To be friends once more
But then you kissed me
And all of that easy complacency
Was out the door
It was wild, and it was fun
And I'd never take it back
Because no matter what you say
I know how you feel
Even if you won't admit it

I listened to the words you said
And the ones that you didn't
I listened when you would start to speak
And I listened when there was silence
I have been listening to you
Because you asked me to
But I didn't change for you
I changed for me
To be happier, brighter, bubbly
To find myself again
To do it I had to listen
And you were right, all along
Why can't you see that?
I changed, and I learned, and I listened.

Didn't you hear me?
I LISTENED

I go up
the down escalator
When no one is looking
I ride the elevator down
But walk up the stairs
With jazz hands

When it rains
Puddles are
A particular favorite
I don't bother to resist
And giggle madly
as I jump

When I get to my desk
In the cubicle maze
I happily do my work
While photos of my past
Taped in a formless collage
Are all around me

I could not conceive
Of building a future
Where the smiles of the past
Are forgotten
In the blur of necessity
Nothing is so important
As those smiles

So I play with my food
And draw outside the lines
I always talk to children
Trying to see through their eyes
Because I know
When they see the world
It looks so different from mine

I wish this life were simple
An ever constant breeze
In which to cast a sail
An end to the tacking
No more catching the tide
Or having it leave without you
Less work, more speed
Smoother seas to sail

Of course such a life
Would be simple indeed
Everything the same
Which would be very boring
A wind to carry you everywhere
And it never stops
Perhaps that sounds more
Like a nightmare
A journey that always passes
Your destination.

I feel so heavy
My mind so full
And I can't find the words
To pour them on a page
They're swirling and stewing
Meshing and combining
Sharing parts of each other
In a rage of feelings
I can no longer decipher
Every thought I have dies
Before they hit the page
If only I could write them!
To set them free
What sweet release that would be.

It is very important
For a lady
To give the right impression
Shake with your right hand
Serve from the left
Dance right foot back
The smallest fork is used first
And always leave it on the plate
Warm smiles never go amiss
Keep your ankles crossed
Hands folded in your lap
And when you meet a lady
Always be polite
Open the door
And say kind things
You don't have to kiss her hand
But if you plan to court her
Bring flowers

Can anyone save us
Will anyone try
You must
We all must
But no one will stand
They all sit and moan
Wailing as things get worse
You must help them
To stand
Why me?
Why does it have to be me?
If not you
*Then who?