Wandering the streets alone
braced against the colds
a dusty worn out overcoat
mismatched shoes with matching holes

Sunken eyes and sagging cheeks
skin all weathered, failing sight
He meanders through the cobbled streets
seeking warmth to last the night

His story all too common
one more forgotten son
who fell right through the cracks
once his duty had been done

The nightmares that he couldn’t shake
that wouldn’t let him sleep
mix with memories of the friends he lost
call forth tears he cannot weep

The proud young man once strong and brave
is now a shadow in his past
just while awake his demons hide
but his peace will never last

Home is not a proper place
has no address, no fixed abode

It may not lay along a certain path
or at the end of any road

For each of us its different
what makes it so we cannot see

For myself I know that I'm not there
whenever you are not with me

My home exists within your hand
when it is wrapped in mine

When our bodies come together
a warm embrace, legs intertwined

Geographically speaking
home can be here, it can be there

but there is no place' feels more like home
than the pillow that we share.

the things we do - indirectly.
i’m drawn to this sort of thing,
torture. but,
i pull myself clear of it.

when she
shakes my hand, her body is elsewhere,
unbothered.
her vessel formed in ceramics and reinforced
tightly
every wish granted, “hey!” i’d say.
it isn’t fair! is it?

i understand these sorts of things
the way i tortured my thoughts into patterns
and my body is elsewhere,
unharmed, because
i pulled myself clear of it. such am i
“above it”: so
it turns out i’m envious
in effigy, “don’t worry,” i’d say.
it’s not real, because
i’m not real

Never unexpected, never planned.
Fuel'd by a liquid confidence.
Cheesy chat up lines slurred at the bar.

Flattered by attention, cheeks flush.
Speedy check up in the powder room.
Touched up, Taxi's dial'd.

Time enough for a lucky shot.
Address? unprepared, both are given.
Eyes are rolled in the rear view mirror.

Payments made hastily, no change wanted.
Front door provides a challenge.
Stumbling through in an awkward embrace.

Side lamps smashed as shoes kicked off.
Collapsing with satisfaction, gyration begins.
Clumsy, inexperienced.  Oh God

Knotted stomach, dry tongue and self loathing.
Clothes gathered in utter silence.
Taxi dial'd, coffee craved in want of a new identity.

Fragments of you linger in my mind.
In my heart.  On my soul.
Diet Coke and the smell of cleaning supplies.
Bearded men and tie clips.
Cosmic Love.  The Good Days.  Emmanuel.
Watches on the right side.  Red shoes.
Fragments.  Pieces.  Parts.
Not the whole you.
I miss the whole you.
But all I have are the fragments you left with me.

She broke my heart again
It failed as she skipped out of reach
It’s okay
Little things can go unnoticed
How big can a heart really be?
She gave it a kick as she stumbled over it
That paled in comparison when she stepped on it
I gift wrapped my heart
I even sang a little tune as I tied the bow
She had that look though
A little moue of surprise and a stutter
My heart dropped and I leaned back
Bracing myself always feels like it should help
But, then she broke it
Kicked it
Stepped on it
Scuffed it for sure
It got a little blurry
I knew as soon as she said
“We can still be friends right?”

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