There’s a certain way about humans
and how we always search for answers,

A cyclical pattern marks our every move
as we live and we die
with tranquility as a lofty goal,

But we can't help dissecting the tiny pieces,
the gears that grind against the grain;
We wonder why dad has to check and double check the lock,
why mom counts the seconds until the day is over,
why family conversations always happen in the car—

And that’s when complexity engulfs simplicity:

We quickly shed layers of blame,
like the scarf and the hat we toss to the wayside
as soon as the worst of the storm has passed,

Because we know better than most
that when it rains,
it pours,

And all we crave is stillness in the air.

I know my vision is often clouded,
but even when I try to blink away
the blur of disbelief,
I still see it with impartial eyes:

You float into space
and strike at the stars,
expecting to glimpse Euphoria—
But your hollow heart is
burdened, harbored;

And the weights of a long past
cannot be so easily
expelled

I climbed to the edge of the rocks today,
Ten vulnerable toes padding the dewy earth

My fingers danced on the slick railing,
Performing a solo fox trot

And the passing breeze spoke,
Louder than I ever could
When we came here together

My cheeks flushed red,
I don’t like to remember that I miss you

Your lingering presence
Threatens my transcendence

my thoughts swell from the bottom of my chipped mug
and splatter onto the dog-eared pages of my favorite book

they skip along the rainy streets in a meticulous pattern,
always traveling two steps forward,
one step back

my thoughts dart around that same right corner,
and recall the coy smiles,
searching this time for unread signs

they approach your familiar face with intention,
again trying to see what you do
through those pale eyes

i can’t help but wonder
if your thoughts have wandered
as far as mine

Your clouded mind breeds frantic thoughts,
Your starved body poses queer answers

Your vision,
eclipsed by the darkest of clouds,
strains to witness the gleaming sun
they promise rests on the horizon

They’ve become immune to the horror of it all,
deeming your story trite,
ceasing to listen,

But ill be here with hand-cupped ears,
absorbing your every last utterance
of doubt and fear

Old records spin on damage-discounted players
Dial telephones forever silenced on the wall
Tattered books of previous scholars scattered about

The scent of nostalgia
The memory of a loved one
The calling of home
All perpetuated in small trinkets and china plates

Reminders of the past,
Reflections of the present,
Resistance of the future,

So much is held in one single shop

Wandering the Yellow Brick Road,
Toto gallops at my side

The glittering Emerald City
Only a small spec on the horizon

But there is no rush, we will be there soon
Danger certainly doesn't lurk on our path

But what’s that?
A gray cloud rolling in
Over my grand escape

Surely this is the fault of the Wicked Witch
She is the cause of all trouble
In a happily untainted world

But what’s happening now?
The scarecrow?
Confused, lost
The tinman?
Cold, unloving
And the lion?
Timid, coy

But where is the wizard?
He should be arriving any moment now
He will surely help us find our way

But where is Glinda?
She knows reality will release its clutch
She will give us comfort

My fairy tale world cannot crumble
Even in the distant memory of childhood

I hope I haven’t somehow lost
My ruby red slippers along the way