the waves break like the days that chase them
and our hardened layers fall down around our ankles
and sacrafice themselves to the edges of the shorline

it's the sunshine season

we don our freckled, olive, summer skin
as we slip into our cut-off shorts and boat shoes

the winter blues melt into their tributaries and take off for the sea
leaving us to blush and bloom like budding tulips

work stained hands toss the rule books aside
making room for a cheap can of beer and an ancient dog earred map

let the dusty two-tracks point you back
to your abandoned spirit of adventure
and your neglected hiking boots

let's go

let's run off towards the sunset
and the lake bed
and get to the heart of what matters in the middle of nowhere
let's get lost sunburned
drunk
and young
it's time to be better again
to be happy as children again

i'll meet you out there
somewhere along the edges of where the water fades to mountains
and the mountains pierce the skies
i hope to see you there...
with a smile on your face and your heart on your sleeve
i promise to bookmark a place for you

let's go find what they are all missing
nurse our hearts
and our spirits
and that primitive instinct burried somewhere deep inside us
that begs us to chase the sweetness
to play
climb
dance
and grow
let's go

but first
a toast

here's to you
and to me
and to every skinned knee that eventually led us to learn the ropes
here's to the countless hopes and dreams that we've had to reconstruct
in order to shape our own realities
here's to sunburns
moonshine
and all that we can be
beneath these summer skies.

You want to know what I want?

       A proper date.
    Flowers. Not always. Once every few months is fine.
  To be wooed, courted a bit.
Gooooooood ***. Bodies drenched and flushed.
A **** Fine Kiss. (Suddenly gathered in someone's arms in the middle of the street.
   The kind that leaves you breathless, panting, and needing more.)
     A good cuddle on the sofa during THE WALKING DEAD.
       Hours of intellectual conversation as foreplay.

You want to know what I get?*

Hanging out with friends.
    Pictures of flowers sent to my Facebook inbox.
      Someone letting me know they're quite keen on me, but only until I show an interest back.
        Half-hearted whatever-the-hell that's supposed to be.
           Lazy kisses where the mind wanders.
        Forcing my dog to cuddle during walker attacks.
     Having to explain what "Beware the Ides of March" means. Among too many other things.
   Mind games.
And secret messages so their wives don't see.

I get creepsters
and/or
married men
and/or
people from out of town/state/country who fancy me.

That last one's not bad, mind you. Just not very possible.*

So if you're keen...
ask yourself...

...which one of those categories do you fall under?

The world was once flat.
People were once Gods.
Myths were once fact.
Earth was once the center of our universe.
People were once owned.
We once believed in innocence.
Continents once did not exist.

Now we **** for convenience,
Hurt for pleasure,
Cry without pain,
Leave behind those who might burden with their grief,
Inflict tragedies without meaning.
We have been wrong before, why is now so different?
Fact has been proven fiction, fiction proven fact.
What makes us think that we can see now, if we were once so blind?
Knowledge is power, but ignorance is just as.
Are we, or are we not? Can we make sense of our world before it is gone?
That is the one question that is neither fact nor fiction,
Which is precisely why it needs an answer never found.

The sheets against my skin
rub me raw
like the ocean
pushing and pulling
upon the sand
that sits along the beach

like the waves
I crash into you
losing myself in the current
that sweeps me
into another world
another place
another time

where you and I
are one and the same

where fishes swim
erratically and freely
like the blood in my veins
as we rise and fall
above the surface of this body
of water

Our faces in the air
barely there
gasping
reaching
for breath
as we try to keep ourselves afloat

with each new wave
our strength weakens
til we fail
and sink
further
and further
down into the depths

where we come to the

last

bit of

air

that we lose

we become suspended
in this wondrous world
for a brief

touch

of a moment

until all is dark.

lithely we fall
into each other
with breathless reverie

smiles of content
rise like the sun
upon the calm of the
ocean waters

the sheets are soaked from our journey
and lay peacefully upon our skin

like the calm waves
I linger to
crash
into you again.

Let me tell you about a girl I know

She lives in a brick house,
But her mind's encased in one-way glass
She can see through others,
But she rarely says what she's thinking

She drinks to feel free
But finishing the bottle doesn't make the boys love her
It just breaks the rules,
Something that is all too ordinary,
all too easy for her

You want to believe that she's dependable, she's responsible,
But her only certainty is her constant lies

As smart as she is,
She finds herself in the middle--
Caught in someone else's game-- all too often

She's never without a joke or prank,
Wears them like sunglasses
So that no one can see the emotions behind her eyes

She's begging for security
She's a liar, a manipulator,
A girl starved for something real

And she won't let herself have it

On the train going home an eleven hour ride
Could be a drain on the body. Thinking about all the things that matter
Mind is focused while the heart wants more
Wrote deep thoughts in lyrics
Thinking of ways to be open
Don't want to be judged or feel obligated
Only want true love but no one to be true
Or show me love
Easy to open up sexually than for a person to open their heart
Too many times lust is mistaken for love
Mixed signs emotions hard to let go
But staying the pain starts to show
Stay and love me or you could hate me but you have to go
If it feels right you'll show me love
If you truly love you'll treat one another
Equal do it right not trying to fight
I'll fight for you but don't pick a fight
I'll defend you but don't offend me
Well figure it out together give me a choice

Dear Life,

Get out of my life. I don't like you; I’m scared of you. I'm not scared of death; I’m scared of life.  I can't look at myself in the mirror without getting goose bumps; I can’t water a plant without screaming. I don't know why I'm afraid of life, I just am.

But maybe it has something to do with my mother; she hated death, so I decided to revolt against her by hating life.

Another thing I should mention is that I don't like school, because most learning has something to do with living. In case you're wondering, I don't like writing, and I’m terrible at it. So don't expect any Shakespeare, coming from me.  “Why are you writing this?” you ask.  Well, I'll tell you.

It was about a year ago, that I started going to talk to this weird    psychiatrist that my mother wanted me to see. So we talked and we talked, and I was not having fun because I hated talking.  The psychiatrist said that I should write about my phobia, to get all my anger out. I thought,” what a bunch of nonsense,” but I did it. Here I am now writing to you. I ‘m afraid you’re never going to write back and that’s fine with me. But if you do, I’m afraid of what you’ll tell me, anyway.  I’m scared that you’ll call me a coward for being afraid of something   that I’ve lived with all these years.



Signed,

       Collin.



  Dear Collin,

I received your letter a while ago and I have been contemplating your phobia for 2 years. For what you wrote was powerful.



You’re not a coward and I won’t scold you. I have a phobia of death. Everyone has a phobia of something or other. Your phobia is not unusual but just so few people these days care to express themselves.  You’re one of the first people to have written to me.  You’re not a coward; you’re talking to your fear, something that takes lots of courage.



There is no reason to be afraid of me. Why are you afraid of me? I don’t think your mother is the real reason. I think you’re just too scared to go out in the real world and breathe the living air. You’re not afraid of life, you’re afraid of what is in life. You’re not afraid of me, you’re afraid of the lives I create and what is inside of them.

Your mother cares about you. She wants you to conquer your fear. You can do it, simply enjoy what’s around you, and don’t be afraid. Because, beneath your fear is hatred and you have no choice but to love.

You can do it , Collin, I know you can.



Signed,

Life