i am
the lion
under your bed

i am
the noise
waking the dead

i am
the boy
banging his head

i am
the trust
reduced to only rust

i am
the struggle
of going completely under

i am
the life
that broke in the night

i am
the monster
in your open closet

i am
the woman
screaming ****** ******

i am
the lie
that infected everything

i am
the secret
you hide from yourself

i am
the demons
swimming through your mind

i am
the honesty
that you left far behind

i am
the dust
on your recorded thoughts

i am
the allegiance
left trampled in the dirt

i am
the power
given to your pain and hurt

i am
the sadness
that defines your person

i am
the reality
that numbed your heart

The days are longer with out
you, even when the sky is
blue, I only see grey.

I walk in your footsteps,
I remember every step you
took, and I walk them every day.

I never open the bedroom
window, as your scent still
floats around in the air, when
I sleep its like your next to
me even though you are not there.

I look after you, make sure its
tidy where you rest. I miss you
my love but i know your not
gone in some way you'll always
be here with me even though
your not there..

Can't you take this pain away?
why not?
You caused it in the first place!

Listen
Listen now
He doesn't sleep here
Anymore.

Smile
Smile somehow
He walks upon that shore.

Look
Look inside
Look inside yourself.

Dream
He's dreaming
You'll find him in your dreams...
Somehow.

4/18/14

I have been going to the track for so
long that
all the employees know
me,
and now with winter here
it's dark before the last
race.
as I walk to the parking lot
the valet recognizes my
slouching gait
and before I reach him
my car is waiting for me,
lights on, engine warm.
the other patrons
(still waiting)
ask,
"who the hell is that
guy?"

I slip the valet a
tip, the size depending upon the
luck of the
day (and my luck has been amazingly
good lately)
and I then am in the machine and out on
the street
as the horses break
from the gate.

I drive east down Century Blvd.
turning on the radio to get the result of that
last race.

at first the announcer is concerned only with
bad weather and poor freeway
conditions.
we are old friends: I have listened to his
voice for decades but,
of course, the time will finally come
when neither one of us will need to
clip our toenails or
heed the complaints of our
women any longer.

meanwhile, there is a certain rhythm
to the essentials that now need
attending to.
I light my cigarette
check the dashboard
adjust the seat and
weave between a Volks and a Fiat.
as flecks of rain spatter the
windshield
I decide not to die just
yet:
this good life just smells too
sweet.

Distracted
distraction
look no further