Love is a four letter word that sweeps my soul into oblivion.
Oblivion is nicer than you might think.
There are willow trees and hummingbirds perched on branches along highways with glowing exit signs.
God has found me and brought me back into the righteous light of faith.
I do not care that I sound like a bible thumper and a southern belle dixie chick hick.
I do not care that this accent may be permanent.
I sound distinguished and full of love.
I sound like I’d pull over if I saw you broke down.
Offer you a ride to the nearest town.
I do not care that some have tried to banish my faith both in god and in humanity. I will remain strong as bulls in a bull pen awaiting their next victim.
I will remain grateful for all that I am given. I will get back up, every time I am knocked down.
I will extend my deepest faiths to you my dear
All off pearl teeth and gusto.
Coffe stains and unbrushed because you can only take care of yourself so much without the beast of burden leaking through.
All 16 hour drives straight through.
Pumping your own gas is dangerous. But I will power through.
The horizon line will become hazy as I approach my home. My head will spin. My heart will ache.
My ***** are on fire like never before
This lust for life.
My heart shakes with every fiber of me.
Like a permanent twang beat on rt 77 or 895.
Location means nothing if your heart is full. And mine is full.
If I should have a daughter, I will teach her birdcage heart to shut around the things it needs most. To grasp like hawk talons and never let go. To love even if it means to lose. To give whenever and where ever the wind blows.
I will teach her that men are like shark mouths. Every thing is safe until they close their mouths. Bear teeth. Huff and puff and blow their houses down.

A deaf and homeless lady asks me for a cigarette and a light.
I don’t have either and cry on the inside.
Her speaking is broken and so is my heart.
No matter where you go you always glimpse some sort of suffering.
Always make yourself thankful.
She is thankful anyway.
She tries hard to read my lips and ask me for a single dollar. I do not have this and I am a slave to the debit card.
She is thankful anyway.
She rolls away and tells me to have a great day.

A homeless man with a sign on the side of the highway. I give him maybe my last 80 cents. I do not fret. I do not need it more than him and I impede traffic to give.
30 seconds to help someone will give you hours of life to live.

A security guard stands by my side as I cry out over a dead battery.
AAA is on route only 3 hours away.
My phone is on 30 percent, but I am thankful anyway.
Thank for breath and safe parking garages.
Thankful for the man with the cables and the woman with the GMC. she tried through broken English to understand me, and spoke to her mother in Latin blooded tongue. I assume she was her mother. The wrinkles around her tired eyes suggest she has more than one child. She has seen more than I have or probably ever will.

I am blessed and I am grateful.
Highways blur as the tears fill my eyes.
Thank god I’ve learned to cry and drive.

There is seven dollar wine at grocery stores and pharmacy.
Something I thought I’d never see.

These mismatch events passed by my eyes so quickly, I forgot to ask names.
I pray for every soul that helped me along the way.
The maxed out credit cards can be fixed. The in-laws will give me time and patience.

Fear is a four letter word that is finding its way out of my vocabulary.
The angst is slowly being replaced with light in my soul.
There are good people out there and I try my damndest to be one of them.
Rain leads to rainbows and I’ve found the golden *** at the other side.
My riches are not material they are beings which I believe to be reincarnated souls of angels, who will never let me fall from this tight rope.
I am blessed and so are you.

North Carolina changed me in ways jersey never could
Perfect strangers and twang accents
State plates from as far as 700 miles. Plane ticket vouchers for 1000.
Crisp air and crap coffee
A 9 hour drive gave me just enough time to love life and all it’s mini tragedies.
Like a tv show series with static that cuts right before the last lines.
A birdcage in my chest, it’s door swings back and forth waiting for a worthy inhabitant. I have found him. And Him.
My hero’s don’t wear capes and my angels don’t have wings

From the moment you stop growing you are dying so live life like there’s a heat seeking missile everywhere you go. Cells divide and replace. Slowly. Ever so slowly.
Oxygen gets replaced by carbon and you breathe deeply like you may never again.
Taking pictures of everything and nothing.
At. The.  Same.  Time.

There’s no jet lag but the corners of my eyes have become bloodshot with gratitude and faith.
30 dollar full tanks and barbecue dreams.
If I could find a place to settle I’d never leave.

There are angels.
There’s the man who offers you a jump in a parking garage after you’ve tried two sets of cables and cried.
There’s the parking garage security that offers you a charge and a drink.
There are your in-laws that would give you the literal shirt off their backs, every time. No questions.
This doesn’t rhyme because it doesn’t have to.
The world works in mysterious ways that don’t always line up with time.
There are particles in your eyes that don’t always make you cry but when they do the shore breaks somewhere off in the distant line of sun. There is crisp air and apple pies. There is wine.
There are times where the street lights illuminate more than the sun ever could.
There is more to be thankful for than you’ll ever really see. Hotel coffee and the love of your short life.
They took way too many mistakes and too much time to find.
It never stops. It always stops.
Your heart beats backwards at twilight. Your bed is your home and your comfort.
A cold beer is better in warm hands and houses.
A drive is better on a dirt road with twang in the background.
A mental breakdown is to start anew.
I’ve spent all this time with so many questions and ponderings.
God is good and *** is better.
Chin up chest out and **** em to high heaven. Every single time.

First time I’ve written anything in years. Enjoy it and go with god. He’s out there.

Cataclysmic soundwaves
reverberate their way through
my tired brain.

The sun shines through the window pane,
but all I see is grey.
What other medications can I take?
Would a bath with a toaster
make me feel more awake?
Sleep is the only escape,
but how long do I keep wasting life away?

Wine blurs the chaotic mind,
for all the answers I can't find.
Anxiety on top of anxiety,
sleep is the only escape this time.

I used to be able to write,
but my mind is haywire,
flashing pictures I can't describe.


No excuses for being sad this time.
Everything is fine.
Happy family, bills paid on time.
Car drives, despite the check engine light.

accusations fly like throwing knives
and all the while, this war you wage
originates in your brain...

"if I had no one to scream at,
I'd scream at myself"

the words leave your lips
like smoke pours from windows
in a house, full blaze.

I've spent my whole life fighting,
so all this smoke doesn't scare me away.
it simply leaves me wondering

whether I can conquer this
or end up just another casualty
along the way.