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Michael Tobin Jun 2014
I awaken to see myself holding onto a rope,
the moment of fear passes as I remember this is all I've ever known.
The surroundings are the same, a circular shaft with a floor that can't be seen.
There are always voices beckoning me to let go,
They assure me that they'll help me with the fall.
But how can I know?
This rope and these walls are the only thing I've ever known.
These voices drive me mad and eventually I fall back to sleep.
Even sleep does not bring respite.
The back of my eyelids are movie screens repeating the same video of falling over and over again.
I awaken once again and find the rope is barbed wire.
Once again the voices tell me to let go, and assure me of my safety.
But how can I know?
This rope and these walls are the only thing I've ever known.
If I let go, how long is the fall?
What's at the bottom?
Is there a bottom?
Will these voices help me?
Are my hands calloused?
How deep do the cuts go?
Will I be able to use them again?
The fear of the unknown leaves me clinging to what I've always known.
Michael Tobin Apr 2013
This gilded mask that I wear each day,
can only be seen through by those who take their time to inspect it,
every crack,
every scratch,
only then will you understand what lies beneath this mask forever worn,
used to show that I'm not so different from you,
I wear it each day so I can function,
why does it seem so heavy?
Michael Tobin Mar 2013
Everything I see contains a piece of you,
I can see you lying on my couch,
I can see you sitting at my dinner table,
I can see you laying in that bed where we learned what true ecstasy is,
I can hear you singing along to our favorite music,
everywhere I go I see little pieces of you penetrating everything,
when I walk, I can feel your hand in mine,
when I go for a drive, I see you next to me singing and laughing,
when I talk with someone I imagine you finishing my sentences,
I can even feel you encouraging me as I write this poem,
I can feel as pieces of you become incorporated into my soul,
but the place where I see you the most is in our beautiful daughter,
her cheek bones,
the shape of her eyes,
her chin,
the way she walks,
the way she throws her temper tantrums,
I sometimes think it's you there in front of me,
these fleeting images of you will always be there,
a permanent resident of my soul,
I will always cherish the little pieces of yourself that you left behind.
Michael Tobin Mar 2013
America, the land of lies
America, the land of homophobia,
America, the land of endless sin,
America, the land where church and state are not separate,
America, the land where we let a 3000 year old book dictate our laws and policies,
America, the land where a man who can throw a football well makes 50 times more than a man who saves lives on a daily basis,
America, the land of diabetes, heart failure, obesity, and McDonald's,
America, the land where we debate whether healthcare is a right or a privilege,
America, the land where company profits are more important than the well being of the human race,
America, the land where we spend twice as much on healthcare than other country,
America, the land where our overall health rating is 26th compared to other countries,
America, the land where we claim all men are created equal,
America, the land where a man can't marry another man,
America, the land that promotes democracy by invading countries and forcing democracy on the people,
America, the land where our education system is suffering constant budget cuts,
America, the land of debt,
America, the land of problems.
Michael Tobin Mar 2013
I see snow melting,
big pools of water in the street,
birds in the trees,
buds on the branches,
I hear birds chirping,
kids playing,
people going on walks,
I feel the warmth of the sun on my face,
unfortunately the warmth is only skin deep,
my heart is still stuck in winter,
there's no warmth there,
maybe It's because I can't enjoy this spring with you,
maybe it's due to my depression,
my only desire is for an internal seasonal change,
I want to watch the snow melt with you,
I want to see big pools of water in the streets with you,
I want to see birds in the trees with you,
I want to see buds on the branches with you,
I want to hear birds chirping with you,
I want to see our kid playing with you,
I want to go on walks with you,
I want to feel the warmth of the sun on my face with you,
unfortunately the warmth is only skin deep without you,
all I can hope is that my heart will change seasons with time.
Michael Tobin Mar 2013
As I lay in my bed I can't help but notice the little imperfections,
the chip in my dresser,
the small crack in my wall,
the poster tilted every so slightly to the left,
the flickering light,
the scratch on my phone,
the poorly organized folders,
the fact that the paint on my ceiling is whiter in certain areas,
the stitching of my flannel coming loose,
the fact that my left foot is bigger than my right,
the scar on my left pointer finger,
the fact that my left ring finger bends to the right,
the fact that the paint on my ceiling is whiter in certain areas,
as I lay here noticing the little imperfections I come to a realization,
little imperfections don't cause a system to fail,
my room is still a room,
I'm still living,
it seems to be easier to focus on the little imperfections rather than the system as a whole.
Michael Tobin Mar 2013
The beast quietly slumbers in its cage,
suddenly it's awoken by a noise,
it hears your words,
at first it sits in its cage confused,
as the words continue it begins to pace,
as the words continue it begins to rip at the bars,
as the words continue it gets more enraged,
eventually the monster breaks free from its cage,
once the monster is released it can not be stopped,
words that can't be taken back,
pain that demands to be felt,
the monster continues on its path,
leaving a wake of destruction that affects everything it touches,
all I can do is wait until it tires,
once again it's returned to its cage to slumber,
until the next time it hears your words.
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