I am Lost

My soul resonates
with the prettiest and darkest things.
I feel and hurt
and live and rejoice
and die and hate
and forgive.
I do it all
in a whirlwind of emotions so no wonder.
No wonder
I don’t know what’s forward or backwards or even what to say
Or do next.
I am so lost.

Words float in the air
They rearrange themselves into a sentence
form a picture of a train and roll away

Words shaped like balloons
They float away but will be back soon

Words hiding in a tree
Leaves fall to the ground and form sentences for me

Musical notes rearrange themselves on a scale
Fingers jumping from fret to fret
or dancing on the piano keys
These are some of the things I see

Ocean waves roll in and write on the sand
Once it just wrote, "I AM"
Seashells with words lie on the beach
In a sentence they realign
Thank you Lord for this beautiful mind

If it was possible..
I would exchange my heart,
With an eve bark...
So that someone will write,
Something this beautiful about it.

Stars above,
glistening the sky.
Golden teardrops fall from high.
The weary moon begins to die,
As the city sings a silent lullaby.

The wind blows soft,
the leaves flow far.
The night falls and tumbles hard.
The stars align,
the moon now cries,
As the city sings a silent lullaby.

The sun slowly rises.
The stars slowly die.
The night loses feeling,
the day comes alive.
Morning creeps slowly,
night falls behind.
As the city sings a silent lullaby.

A drunken god has
spoke you into existence
A stolen diary that told you,
it’s a sin to return this body
even if its weak bones
couldn’t carry the weight
of your heavy heart

I know I can speak myself out of it
With a blade in my hand
standing on the edge of the stage,
I’ll wait for the Almighty to sober up
and watch me steal his role

After twenty years of rehearsal
I’ll play god,
lights will go off,
and curtains will close

Your followers will clap in awe
at my convincing performance

As I bow before them
As I fall before you

“Are you okay?”,
my wife asks
when I cough.

“No. I’m fine.
Yes. I’m not”,
I respond,

stumping her
in the poetic irony
of words that

encompass the
yes and no
and the in between.

She flips the finger
at me and I return
the bird to the nest.

We go back to our life
and our tablets,
the drip, drip of my chemo
and I wonder about okay.

“No.  You’re fine.
Yes. You’re not.”,
the bag stares in response.

I regret everything.
I regret falling in love.
I regret leaving.
I regret opening up.
I regret hurting so many.
I regret being desperate.
I regret changing.
I regret running away.
I regret staying.
I regret turning away.
I regret meaning everything.
I regret feeling unsafe.
I regret playing games.
I regret loving.
I regret caring.
I regret it all.