Stay here
when everything says run.
Stay here
when the jaw grinds shut.
Stay here
when the breath runs thin.
Stay here
when you're out of your skin.
Stay here
when the drink calls quietly.
Stay here
when the voice says spitefully,
"you're not enough"
because
when it comes to this stuff,
running feeds the fire
and true healing requires
staying here.

Heartbursting and full,
the numbing has worn off.
Now, the weight of words unsaid are
a mighty river behind a dam,
stuck in my throat,
so they stay swirling in my head,
rootless.
I mouth my truth,
but no sound trickles through.
That dam's been built strong
through these years.
So I'll say it here:
family, friends, colleagues,
my wife, my
self,
you -
do you know how dearly I love you?

i know you used to wake early
and sit in the cold dark
to scribble those playful loops
into the truest of joys,
the truest of pains.
this morning i saw you
as a young man,
a young dad,
with that infectious smile.
your smile could put others at ease
and disarmed the fear we all carry
everywhere, all the time.
i was so closed-off then,
so hard in my belief
that no one understood…
i hope my shortsightedness
didn’t make you think i was mean.
i know watching you i learned kindness,
i learned that warmth to strangers
is a gift to the world.
i know you tried to connect with me
in the ways you knew,
and i want you to know you succeeded.
you are with me now
as i try to do no harm in this world
and live in a way you’d be proud.
you are with me now
as i write these words
in the cold dark.
good morning dad

How desperately it clings,
as if the spinning of the earth
might send us sailing into space.
I want to reassure it and
soothe it and calm it;
thank it for defending me,
but then say
it’s going to be okay
and we don’t need to fight
anymore.

Let’s sit down
together,
as brothers,
and hash out
the rest of our life
together.