Last week I told you
That I was drowning
Thinking that you'd jump in after me,

But to my surprise,
And by the way you cried, your surprise too,
You held my head under the water,
Just below the inky waves.

It was cold and muddy
And I choked on it too,
My eyes were burning
And my whole body shook
And I grasped for your hair
To try and pull myself up
But you cut it with a quick jagged slash,
And pushed me down deeper.

And soon my eyes began to hollow
And my lungs forgot to struggle
And I swear,
Through the water I saw your velvet lips part
And let out a final thought
Haphazardly tied to a sigh,

Because when I tried to tell you that I still loved you
You just let us drown.

.

The burnt out fibers
Of my stretched and stained heart
Have just become taut,

Like sparks behind my eyes
And electricity at my fingers,

The world flickers into place
Like a Polaroid winking into existence,

My breaths may be shallow
But I can breath again,
And though my lungs may be rusty,
The air is clean,
The leaves are crisp,
And Winter may have just begun

But I'm feeling warmer already.

Ernest Hemingway once said:
"Write hard and clear about what hurts",
And I have neither written hard
Nor clear
About the ache eating my heart
Or the ink in my throat,

Because you see,
It was so much more than losing you.

I lost the stars I drew on my ceiling
Above my bed,
Where we had laid in a sea of sheets
And a chasm of pillows,
Because it was both raining and noon
But you wanted to see the stars
So I made them for you.

I lost Gilbert Park,
Where we would sit in the dark of the night
Listening to songs we didn't understand
But ones that made us feel,
And your pale hand clasped mine
As though the rain would sweep our car away.

I lost the family dinners,
All the inside jokes
Between distant relatives
And your brother who always looked up to me
And your little cousin who never could say my name right
But it was so funny that eventually
The entire family began to say it wrong on purpose,
Even years later when he said it correctly.

And I lost the little things too,
Like knowing exactly which floor board
Would squeak in your house,
And how your dad would decorate
The entire lawn for every holiday,
Even for the ones people would forget about otherwise.

And I remember how when we'd walk
Hand in hand,
Our steps would maintain a perfect rhythm,
In sync the entire time

And I lost so much more than words could ever say
And I just want to slam my hands on my keyboard
And wish away the pain
And fuck why don't the words pour like they used to,

It's all sticky and my veins feel clotted
With frustration and heat
And the sky has cracked
And my walls are crumbling
And everything is dizzy and it's hard to stand
Because I used you as my crutch
But now I have to remember how to walk alone
In a world where I have to pretend
You don't exist
Because time heals all wounds
But why can't time go any fucking faster?

i was born to make biscuits
and so we let him.
flour, butter, one egg, messiest
table in the hole entire county.
mom watches bug and the boys
roll in the leaves outside, and
greg and i drink coffee by the fire
in thick socks and knitted throws.
a burst of the season arrives with
each sibling but we smile anyway,
kisses and cold hands pressed on
our warm cheeks until we're all
the same temperature. pop's biscuits
are done, so we sit and don't say
grace- just thank each other for
the things we have which no one
else could have given us. mom's
already missing the birds, and
wendy says she thinks she found
one of katy's old hats in the back
of her garage last month and she
even brought it with her this time.
we talk and we laugh and the little
boys nap and we just are.
we just are.

10/23/16

i haven't seen my family in a long time. this is all i can think of right now.

you are a weed, she said
she
she
she
she said, you are a weed.
i have scraped knees and
a quickly bruising elbow,
a finger to my lips and a
dinosaur washrag dripping
onto my thigh.
but, grandma, she said-
there is a calming, silencing
tone to the thumb wiping
my face clean, a soft smile.
even gardeners mistake the
new, stray trees on their
fence lines sometimes, meg.

11/10/17 -- from my journal

my grandma told me this story the other day, when i came to her with some self doubt. she told me to "always be a tree even if you aren't supposed to be one."

A dark and smokey coat
Glistens like a silver shadow
A brute and hungry force
Which lives deep within my soul

It wells within in my stomach
And bursts into my heart
My heart expells it to my finger tips
Wherein it's silence screams

Sometimes my arms are strong enough
To fight the beast with ease
But lately I'm a castrated man
Brought swiftly to his knees

How will I wear my age
When the heart begins its pace
How will I wear my age?

How will I wear my age?
When the lines begin and lies
Begin to define me
How will I wear my age?
When the years are all thats stood beside me?

Eh

I stood outside a neon fortress,
Light beaming in all directions.
The pallid edges pushing out,
Then receding, as if the light
Was a pulsating heart beat.
You could sense the energy's
Eb, as if it tires, then with a smile
Runs full force into the night.
A brash and brave endeavor.
A childlike sense of play
In its insistent prod with the night.
There was a false sense of warmth
Parading in sheep's skin
Like the clever and daring fox amongst the fold.
Still the wash of warm was overcoming
And let the mouth ease into a resting smile.
Now with the tension leaving,
My face still feels almost plastic
Slowly melting to a calm demeanor.
I have to wonder if I had been standing agape,
A resting bitch face glared at all who met my eyes.
They instanly regret sending strangers smiles.
I notice how the sounds of the city
Are a blare so bold
They fade to a quiet white noise
Like the sound of electricity
Flowing through a silenced TV,
The lulling hum soon ignored.
The only difference being
That the hymn the city sings,
Unlike the hum of the TV, is so loud
That when the mind settles in
And begins to ignore it's finer edges,
You would ignore the screams of your mother,
The cry of a baby brother,
Or any child.
In fact my ears tune for just a moment
To the cry of a lost child.
A woman in a velvet purple overcoat
With a mother's face and soft voice speaks,
"Oh dear, have we gotten lost?"
The words make me feel like we're in this together
And a little less alone.
The scene slowly recedes into the black,
Thick,
Tendrils
Of the unnoticed
And forgotten.
It reminds me,
This why the city is a calloused place
And an act of kindness goes so far.

If I could only take those hits like a prized fighter
If I could end this life somewhere other
Than the undertow
Of the highest of lows
If I could smile big
While blood was pouring
If I got a laugh
In the ease of the pain
A gut wrenching crack
From the dying and drained
What a life they'd say I had layed
Like a road worn day after day

Well I guess it matters
More than many would mit
That a life with meaning
Means more than this
To get up with something to give
And to rest with nothing to give

But all my bones were spent years ago
In the wild hope of a youth too old
Where all my pride that should have got in the way
Led me higher each and every day
When the moon came crawling I would
Always stay
With a love like that you would never stray
With a love
Like that
You
Always stay

Well I guess it matters
More than many would mit
That a life with meaning
Means more than this
To get up with something to give
And to rest with nothing to give

The fridged air feels just the same.
I couldn't tell the sillouettes of mountains from my own.
There is a moment I want to call this home.
Freedom from the restrictions of my own understanding.
Letting my own self identity
Be lost in another world.
I know I could memorize the jagged lines
Of the mixed building and mountain horizon line
With the features jutting stories high.
The sounds all strange
Like the whistle of the siren
As a cop patrols the street.
A booming voice knocks all trance
And demands your escape.
Already the heart is willing to adopt all forms of formality
As the cute young girl with inquisitive eyes
Hands me my food,
"Arigatou gozaimasu."
I find the words slip from my mouth
But behind the heavey tongue
I'm screaming for a name.
Anything more then just a smile.
She bows and backs away
A fretting figure of cute anxiety.
The starry-eyed pastels
Of newborn curiosity will fade.
Maybe a dull ache for home will set in
But as of now
There is no place I'd rather be.

Heart beating like a revolution
Star spangled sleeves, hard angled at degrees
That never seemed right to me

90's kid hiding mighty lips behind this tiny kiss
I blow to the wind, whining for a timely bliss
It's ignorance but I won't mention this to her

Tangled in the loose leaves, bangs hanging over seas
Swimming in the folded sleeves of older me
Tied to a boulder, over me, drowning under these lines

I don't know what I'm doing.
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