Often people hear the name Michael
and are drawn to the depictions of the archangel.
Vanquisher of Satan.
Hero.

My Michael is more in line of a fallen angel
lost of grace and devoid of that serene light
drowning and suffocating in his
darkness.

My father
Who art not in heaven
has abandoned long ago any family ties and remains
untethered.

9 years and some change
since I have had any contact
other family claim similar stories yet
question.

Every gathering of these people
whom I do not know
constantly compare me to his
shadow.

Imagine getting compared to the myth
of a person or being
that you have barely met and fail to
understand.

So, today, I woke up and decided it would be my last day alive.

I went to work, did my job (I teach math) and I went home.
Afterward, I stopped by the local shop, purchased rope and decided to hang myself in my garage.

It was a pain in the *** to set up. YouTube searching videos on how to tie a hangman's knot, and set up a system.

Well, here's the thing. I'm a big dude (6'6", 250 pounds) so I had to put the rope up high and have a huge counterweight (a couch).

As I stepped onto my table to get all the way up into the noose, the table broke.
Okay, time to get creative. Propped up four or so chairs.

Get in the noose, lock it in.

knock the chairs away.

wouldn't you believe it, I'm too tall, I could barely breathe, but my feet landed on the ground.

Now I have a broken table, rope hanging in my garage, and rope burn on my neck.

All I want from you
More than anything at all
is your happiness.

In a perfect world
You would choose my happiness too
But I am afraid.

That fear holds me down
Sears scars deep into my flesh
Burns my entire self.

Numbness brings solace
A familiar comfort
Constant escaped hearts.

Emotionally
Closed off from all stimuli
Until recently.

That opening like
A storm of swirling rawness
Complete destruction.


So choose. Choose me. Please.
Make being vulnurable
Worthwhile. I love you.

I am 6'5", 250 pounds with a shaved head and a goatee.
Believe me, Im an intimidating man.
If i furrow my brow i even bare a striking resemblance to my old man.
Stern. Angry. Mean. Cold. Calculated.
So how can my gruff exterior be so
Nonchalauntly punctured by her and her five feet of fury?
If i am forced to look like Mike, why cant i also inherit his ability to severe all ties?
Ive tried so hard to be careful
Keep people at my long arm's length
But there are some cloak and dagger blows
Even a mighty shield cannot protect someone from

I went for a run at 3 am to clear my head
Or maybe just to outrun my pain
Even if that metaphor is as tired as my legs
I meant to come back
But the farther i got
The more i realized i didnt want to return
And be constantly reminded of the agony
Disappointment
Frustration
The farther i got
The more distant i became
The safer
The very real sadness
Could be chocked up to more imaginary
Concerns
When i went to turn back
Its as if my brain screamed go
Yet everything else remained perfectly
Still
So here i wait in the blistering cold
Because even subzero weather seems
Warmer
Than what permeates inside

While countless lean their problems on the cane,
he can never complain
for this is his purpose.
To help those in need.

The reliability has become a trademark
within an epidemic of self reflection and focus
having this built in reliability to lean on when things get tough
becomes paramount.

Problems fade away,
de facto the cane's issues
for the tool has bailed the same person out
time and time again.

While no one would notice relying on the stick
repeatedly,
its the accumulation of everyone else
also taking advantage.

For it is not the cane's place
to lean somewhere else
it must stand strong as a guiding force
sacrificing for everyone around.

Until the once solid oak
has been withered thin, chipped,
eventually snaps.
Only to be replaced.

As time goes on
humans adapt in many different ways
as all living things do.
We grow intellectually, emotionally, spiritually
but more often than not
fears, doubts, insecurities, envies run rampant in our expanding minds.

Toxicity, too, develops
rippling out, engulfing anyone near in a flame of hate
charring them beyond recognition.
Adapting, hand in hand with survival, dictates we raise walls
barriers to protect ourselves
if only to withstand even more punishment, then repeat the cycle.

But the thirst for animosity
has to be quenched, leading to rampant searches for more and more
ways to hurt each other.
A propensity for cruelness overrides any potential
at reformation, reconciliation
or any sort of repairing all the tethers that have eroded away with vigor.