The plains-stretched sky soars sullenly,
Graceless sans hills, lonely less trees.
Starkly exposed tending swept-grass streams,
With naught but sparse clouds to mask modesty.

Let me glimpse the sky peaking playfully behind arboreal eaves,
Branches breaking blue monotony with autumn-bright leaves.
Show me a valley mid-winter-doze, cozy between mountains steep,
Sleepy sun-shadows shifting on snow as the sky climbs for her peek.

Don't have her eyes O' Lord
Bear the eyes of a devil before hers
Better even to stare with dead eyes
Let it be neutral, your saving gaze

-
     I forget about my faith,
And all the things I'm taught.
     I see the end is near,
But all my life I've fought.
     I want to go to sleep,
To never wake again.
     What is this thing approaching,
Should I call it a friend?
     I'm feeling restless,
But I have nowhere to turn.
     Either I go back,
Or go ahead and burn.
     I see my life, my luck,
And I am sure I'm hexed.
     What should I do when I don't know,
Just what I should do next?

Several times in my life I have had the strange sensation that I might just fall up into the sky at any given moment.  Like gravity would, for some reason, simply stop affecting me.

It happened once when I was seven, laying on my back in the summer grass, cloud-watching.

It happened again, when I was seventeen, while I was staring at the stars reflected in the water.

And once just now
when I thought about
you loving me.

She set me on fire and asked, "Why's it so hot in here."

Ascending shadows free frigid forest
From silently stalking sylvan guest
Lilac light lilting songbirds astir
Crystals cascade from ruffled fur
Halting hoof crinkles tinkling grass
Seeking silver trickling under glass
Softly stifled step echoes eerily alone
Tickling giggling reply from icy stone
Drinking doe darts sight unseen
Elusive as spring in this snowy scene

They say one's life is supposed to flash before one's eyes prior to the moment of death.

When I go, I hope I have time to get to the part where we met...

I wanna fall in love with you all over again.

She would stand in the path of an avalanche and yell, "Stop!"
Frack me if she wouldn't actually expect the avalanche to respect her.
She'd be thinking about how to teach the avalanche manners,
Safe inside her brand-new igloo.

I have been stuck here all this time,
Tortured in heart and chained in mind,
Lost and confused, and unsure of why:
You are my spirit guide, and I yours, likewise.

My love for you was never any great mystery,
No greater than that of the tide returning to the sea,
But I lost faith in love when you lost faith in me,
Because you were my life, my heart, my eternity.

I'm not playing games, I'm getting **** off my chest,
I have no hate for you, no blame, and few regrets,
This growth, this catharsis, has been my life-long quest,
And after twenty-five years in the desert...I'm ready to rest.

I didn't waste my life, but it wasn't what it should have been,
I didn't spend it on gambling, or lechery, or a bottle of gin,
I did my fair share of losing and I had a fair number of wins,
But never did I find again, our level of soul-deep connection.

With your freedom, I can be free once again,
With your transcendence, I can finally transcend,
But without your love, without you as my friend...
It's walking a million miles only for the story to end.

The most fun I ever had
Was making you laugh

It's not the giving, it's the spirit

But being giving, the spirit gives

So it is the giving of the spirit

It wasn't the kind of heartbreak
That you get over with a road trip

It wasn't the kind of heartbreak
You got over with a peyote trip

It was the kind of heartbreak
You carry with you through your life

It was the kind of heartbreak
That makes your heart a graveyard

It was the kind of heartbreak
That makes the grave feel like home

They were taught faith

under the guise of Stockholm Syndrome

We were in love, successful, and happy,
We had a graphic novel series and a hit CD.

We did everything together, I stood tall beside her,
Then some insecure scientist turned on their LARGE particle collider.

Right was down, and down was blue, and blue was east,
Now she's married to another man, and I got no teeth.

I miss your hand in my hand
I want your hand on my shoulder
I need your hand on my...anything

In Soviet Russia,

God believe in YOU.

Two politicians standing around the grill in Anycity, USA.

"So wha'd'ya want? Heart or mind?" Asks the first politician.

"Mind," Answers the second.

"A man after my own heart!" Chuckles the first.

Standing outside looking in,
Running circles with the wind.

Lose the self I've never known,
Chasing light that's never shown.

Forever rise to no avail,
Rusted, bent, and brittle mail.

The rising sun breaks on eager round,
It's dying screams release no sound.

This sadness might pass me by,
If I was ever left alone to cry.

TL:DR

"I look like a melting gargoyle when I cry."

She laughed, like wind-chimes in sunlight, soothing and warm. She replied, "You don't have to show me."

"Will this really work? I feel silly."

"Well you won't know unless you try, now will you?" She smiled.

"Okay, okay. Like this?" I asked, crossing my hands over my chest.

"Kinda," She reached out and adjusted my hands slightly, "Like that, gently, like you're holding a baby bird against your heart."

She let go of my hands and floated backwards a pace, watching me encouragingly.

Still feeling silly, I tried to clear my mind, while remembering her instructions;

Focus, stay relaxed...

OK.

Think of hope, I told myself, and as I did I began to bring my cupped hands down away from my chest and hold them facing the sky.

"*******!" She exclaimed, leaning in, her face alight with - something.  

I started to lower my hands, thinking as I do, that she was poking fun.

Her face fell, and her hands shot out like lightning, gently bracing my hands and preventing me from lowering them. "Don't be shy," she smiled softly.

I looked up into her eyes, wary, but her face showed only concern.  I looked down again, ashamed of my reaction, and she ducked her head to maintain eye contact.  "You're a squirmy one, aren'cha?"

I felt my face flush, but I laughed, despite my anxiety.

She nodded towards my hands, "Don'cha wanna know what I see?"

I saw nothing. "Sure," I said, trying not to sound skeptical.

Apparently I failed because she let out another peal of chiming laughter.  She seemed to sober a bit, without losing her carefree smile and leaned in a bit more closely.  She peered into the bowl formed by my cupped hands like it was filled with stars instead of empty air.

She remained like that for what seemed an eternity.  I held as still as I could, awaiting her judgment.  She straightened and looked at me, very seriously.  Her face was not hard, exactly, it was like a waterfall that had just stopped falling, all trace of humor was gone.

"Why are you ashamed of me?" She asked softly, no anger or hurt, just concern.

"I..." I didn't actually know how to answer.  I thought for a moment, the both of us standing there, with her holding my hands like a fortune teller.

"I think I have just been convinced, over and over, that I should be." I said somberly.

"Silly boy," she replied, her face once again alive with that same ephemeral light.  "Don't you know?  People will tell themselves all kinds of things when they're hurting.  Don't you go and let hurt steal your hope, your light!"  

I hung my head a bit, somewhere, deep down, I did know.

She shook her head slightly, and smiling a bemused little smirk, she glided closer.  With her left hand she began to push my hands back up towards my chest, and brought her right hand around to cup the back of my neck, simultaneously drawing our foreheads together.

Her eyes drifted nearly closed, as if she was falling into a trance, and as my hands reached my chest she whispered something I could not quite understand.

I saw it first in her eyes, a faint glow, and as she finished her short silent prayer the tiny glow flared into uproarious brilliance!  The blinding light suffused us, filling my vision with blue/white fire.  

Hope's warm countenance floated before me now in the heart of a star, and just before I awoke, I realized that the light was coming not from her eyes, but from beneath my cradled hands.

You're much stronger than any antidepressant I've ever been prescribed.

That's it.
That's the whole poem.
Not really much of a poem.
Not really much of a way to live either.
But it's what I got.

If I could quit you
If I could resist

If the truth did not ring true
If the pain did not persist

If the sun were to fail to shine
If I didn't live for dreams of rain

If they didn't drip-dry into this heart of mine
If I didn't weave them into and between every refrain

If I lost myself and I couldn't remember why
If I could ignore that you're not here, holding my hand

If I could picture your picture and refuse to cry
If I wasn't on my knees, if I was able to stand

If there was a drug to take to make me forget
If it erased longing, and sorrow, and pain, and regret

If I could simply eat it and you'd disappear
If I could just drink it and drift off, free of fear

If I pretended to want these things to come true
I would only be lying to myself, trying to spare you

Daaaaamn gurl,

You got a **** brain on you!

I was never sure if she was
locked away in a tower somewhere

Or if she was the dungeon master
and I was the one on the rack

Her star is her spirit
Her heart is my light
Weather, far, or near it
Illuminates my night

I have wings,
but no feet.
I am escape,
without retreat.
I am surrender,
but not defeat.

It is a painful, strengthening, heart-breaking, uplifting, terrifying, enlightening, emptying, and fulfilling journey through horror and wonder.

Leading one inevitably towards confrontation with oneself.  

It is the path to balance.

You passed me
And I thought

Wow, she is beau-
Oops, that's not cool

-You're on a diet, but
-You can look at the menu

Yeah, but
I love what's on my plate.

Your gender roles
don't go very well
with my anxiety jam

I suppose the knife was used,

More like a tool,

But having been stabbed in the chest,

To not consider it a weapon,

We'd be thought the fool,

So to give the story that final deft twist,

We were convinced the blade didn't exist,

It's a scenario Kaiser Soze simply couldn't resist.

I try to show you
A little piece of me
But it's not like I can
Lay out my soul;

A.
  B.
    C.

I mean hell,
You won't even
Speak to me.

For someone like me
being told you're getting
exactly what you've always wanted
is like being told that you have
24 hours to live.

Because nothing I've ever wanted
really, actually, down-deep wanted
has ever worked out.

The more important something was,
the more ****** up the eventual outcome.

This self-fulfilling prophecy has been
more reliable than any family
member, friend, or lover has ever been.

It's never let me down.

The idea of living life, not just surviving, but actually LIVING life,

Is like the idea of Angels or Miracles or Night-visiting-aliens:

I've heard stories, but it's never actually happened to me.

I am not an Atari running Logo.

I will wear a turtle costume for you.

I will Go-To-Line-22, and I will STOP for you.

I will even Go-To-End, for you.

But if you're not there, for me, you'll eventually find that turtle costume unresponsive.

_

Young and in love, two kids with a lollipop.

The future is theirs, a sundae with a cherry on top.


Honest and innocent, immature and insecure,

Both happy and scared, both hearts sure.


Nine months spent together, three spent apart;

Missing, Longing, and Waiting:

One year til two broken hearts.


3 days left, 2 heartstrings severed by 1 lie.

"I talked to her!" Said her friend, "Come over, let's have a beer and get high."


"Well?! Why hasn't she called?  She's barely written..."

Jealous and wicked, she lies, "With another she's smitten."


The room spins, the floor falls away, the lights start to flash.

My cigarette just burns, the beer tastes like ash.


I expected to be abandoned, I always knew I'd end up alone.

Fool, I stayed when she said, "You're too drunk to go home."


I didn't deserve a second chance, nor should I have wasted,

But I couldn't speak, twisted, conflicted, and consumed by self-hatred.


I blamed her and her friend, I tried to hide it by running non-stop,

But in the end, it was my hand that broke the lollipop.

It is ever-breaking fragile pain,
Thinly-strung lightning-flames.

It is stressing, tense, and pulsing life.
To force down grief, to strengthen strife.

It is flowing wonders' pouring heart,
A weathered, broken beggars' cart.

It is swimming through the sunlit air
On perfume-scented strands of hair.

It is sprouting springtimes luscious glade,
And lying down in burning shade.

It is a flashing trick of fading shadow,
In summer sunlights only meadow.

It is broken trust and spoken lies,
An angry haze in bleeding eyes.

It is sipping sweetness and pouting lips,
A flag of peace that snags and rips.

You enchanted the moon, didn't you?

Or bribed her?  Maybe you promised her a star or two?

She hunts me with Orion's bow, pacing behind shadowed cloud,

My celestial stalker ridin' low, warily wrapped in misty shroud.

She whispers stark and yet, soft as a breeze on an April afternoon,

Press on now, my pet.  You've done so well, we'll sleep again soon,

But we've a fortnight to go if we're to come full circle by month's end.

So many dreams still to sow... To reap those lupine howls once again.

She waxes and I wane, she mystifies with madness then soothes me sane.

Serenity to insanity, delirious depravity to moon-magicked majesty,

A cosmic clockwork cycle muddling my mind with lunar gravity.

She pushes me to righteous malice and pulls me to solstice solace,

She masters tides in her caprice, what hope has a malcontent apprentice?

_

"Let me go, set me free,

I'll come back if it's meant to be."


A pronouncement, not a choice.

Then she said, with tears in her voice,


"If you ever loved or respected me,

Don't call me anymore, please."


I couldn't argue, it wasn't my place.

Plus, she said, "I'll call you, I just need space."


She didn't believe in destiny or fate,

Or being locked to a future that she didn't make.


I don't believe in fate either, it's a moral vacation.

It's my belief that destiny is simply ones destination.


Was it such an insult that I once believed,

That we were so well matched we were meant to be?


Did our destinations just not intersect?

I waited for years, I never thought she'd forget.


Finally I worked up the nerve to leave word with her parents.

She called back, indifferent, but said she'd make an appearance.


Years of silence, now suddenly we're meeting at eight.

Nervous and scared I waited, she was only fashionably late.


We talked and caught up for an hour as we ate,

Though the butterflies only let me pick at my plate.


Just outside, she said she didn't have long,

But come sit in the car, and she'd play me a song.


I sat shaking in the dark van and I listened.

Well, to tell truth I tried, but was so nervous I didn't.


I tried to be cool, but underneath I was a mess.

Somehow I found the guts to blurt, "Can I have your email address?"


I agonized and worried, I tortured myself and fought.

What should I say?!  Bah! Just be honest, I thought.


Heart in throat, I emailed her, I told her I was still stuck.

She replied with an ice bath, "Too bad, get over it, goodbye, best of luck."


I'd love to tell you I was stoic, strong, and poetic.

In reality, I stumbled around like a zombie for years, it was pathetic.


I tried again a decade later, total fiasco of course,

I was lost and emotional and going through a divorce.


She was nice but aloof, she said, "If I'm on your list."

It set me off balance and gave the conversation a dark twist.


I read into her words with my own bitter pain,

And earned the response, "Don't message me again."


Time heals all wounds, after a while, it was OK, am I right?

Sorry, but nightmares still trouble me night after night.


I dunno if it's Covid, or I just know one day I'll be dead...

But I have to try and get this stuff out of my head.


Rip it out of my chest and wrestle it onto the paper.

Maybe, with enough words, I can start to fill in the crater.

Worn photograph clutched
Tightly in the mind's eye
Faces faded, edges rough
Light preserved by hopes lie

Lush garden terrace
Woven through with thorns
Soft smile turned sharp grimace
Scarcely healed scars torn

Fairytale truths delude
Poison apple dreams
The really-real world
Seethes behind the seems

Dark mirrors reflection
Bends reality
Echoes of connection
Charm eternity

I've got dyslexia,

I'm ADHD, and

I write poetry.

It's like a drunk,

One-eyed idiot

Trying to herd cats

That are on ****.

Be careful
I forgot to mention
my heart
is proximity-activated