see, what confuses me
is that i'm most often kept
on the outside
of your shining brilliance

i don't get to experience
the marvelous rays of
your genius
and that's alright, i suppose

i instead get to glimpse
from the outside
when i get the chance
and i've settled for that

standing out and looking in
is where i’ve grown accustomed
it’s okay, don’t feel bad
i’m used to it

( it is now a case of the day-to-day
rather than the out-of-the-ordinary. )

it surely isn’t your fault
that someone like me is
so plain, that your greatness
overshadows my own
mediocrity.

-d.m.

writing leads you to
places
you could before only
imagine

when you ask
"why do you like to write?"
you're missing out on
something great

the question is a double-edged
sword
because there are so many
answers
to such a simple question

writing is creation

writing is passion

writing is discovering

writing is believing

writing is comfort

writing is home

and i choose to partake in this art
to ease some hidden burden
and it tastes like relief

and it is in this
that the loneliest people of the
world
are the most free.

- d.m.

sometimes i think about the time
when life was sublime
and i wonder where i lost myself
when i placed my soul up on a shelf

maybe the pictures on the wall
that slow time down to a crawl
will show me a bit of me
let me grow upwards like a tree

i will not consider the chance
that perhaps it won't enhance
and instead i'll freeze
and i'll fall to my knees

the memories come unbidden
and will instead let in
a flow of unwelcome thoughts
no, i think, better not.

- d.m.