i'm hopeful,
i'm hopeful that this will all come together soon.

the answers will appear to all of these swirling questions,
overwhelming, drowning underneath, we all seem to be,
and as we keep swimming, the tide gets stronger,
as if there is no calm water ahead.
what will we make of this journey,
which path will we take? does it even matter?
my shipmates, we were tossed overboard,
one by one,
by choice or by force,
and as we reach out for buoys,
gasping for breath,
for a semblance of sanity,
we recall our problems being simpler,
a blazing sun,
her lips, my tongue,
a roadway for one,
the way i would run,
the way i could run.

tell me now, as oxygen is replaced,
with cool bursts of reality,
when will this be over?
the mirage of a shore, seems closer
than ever, and i'm sure
that it will all be explained with clarity
once i'm there, the meaning of this all,
we'll laugh about the urgency
with which we swam.

as we set off, water as smooth as a warm caress,
fully operational, easy as pie,
elaborate questions were simple, as our minds were,
what's next? where are we going?
who's staying for the long haul?

and when the initial wave of panic subsided,
as we soon realized the fate of our ship,
foreboding as the water seemed,
the blue reminded us of sky.

it didn't feel too cold,
a gentle winter gust,
we could practically touch,
the warm sand ahead.

but then the winds changed,
i guess our minds changed,
i lost sight of the eyes that were locked,
with mine while we sank,
and as i scrambled to find them,
i realized that this, was not a drill,
and there really was, no turning back,
sitting on the deck, playing board games,
forgetting my name, leaning on canes,
forever the past.

and i thought i'd be the best swimmer,
underestimated the strength of waves,
i see the splashes, of churning feet, far ahead,
others, drying off, laughing on land,
we were the same not long ago.

i swim with purpose,
the method has changed,
the destination, the same,
but just as i see those who've reached the end,
i see those who've chosen to wait,
rescue choppers, coast guards,
a lifeline, perhaps.
others, piecing together the ship,
hoping to see it once again, set sail,
and if i could shake my head,
without compromising my front crawl,
i guess i would.

because there's a point to this struggle,
that's what we've been told,
there'll be answers on that beach,
along with joyous recollection,
there'll be you and me, and everyone else,
and the water that we drink,
will taste so much better than
the bitter dreck through which we swim.

back on that ship, i recall,
a wise philosopher once saying,
"just keep swimming".
that blind optimism,
a pixar mindset,
said nothing of direction,
or inevitable casualties.

the colour of a collar,
is not a mood ring,
it's blue or white,
it doesn't suddenly change,
depending on how you feel.

the division of classes,
is not hopscotch,
you can't simply jump
from square to square,
gracefully,
over stones.

debt,
like other four-letter words,
is a constant that cannot be erased,
regardless of fancy business cards,
or the poetry of your scalpel.

doubt,
like other underlying emotions,
sprouts and blooms,
when least convenient,
let logic be the shears,
that keep your mind
green, and tidily kept.

let your experience
grant you perspective,
never get caught up
in show and tell,
ant farms,
and pet rocks,
cannot be compared.

never hold with derision
what you've overcome,
or come from,
wear those badges proudly,
like a child wears
bike scars (3 stitches).

never let the memories,
of adversity
fade, let them remind
you of circumstances,
never to be repeated.

past purchases,
do not determine worth,
tie clips are superfluous,
silk and polyester,
are not discernible from a distance.

let the lack of a title,
in your pedigree,
fill you with pride,
not embarrassment.

let the sacrifices of those
before you,
ring with honour,
not with shame.

let your actions
be a logical extension,
of the dreams deferred
on your behalf.

let the blue of your collar
never fade with washing,
regardless of what's implied
by initials after names.

she laughs at my jokes...
i would quit my job
and become a comedian for you
ardently writing for hours on end
just for that laughter to
constantly ring out like
bells near that church on the hill

it's been 6 months since we last spoke
it's been 10 months since my heart broke
and i know that no one's listenin
you are the only victim
but should i feel no pain,
just because i wrote the last note?
it was a b-sharp, less funny every time,
you say that you didn't see the signs,
that you were blind,
you say that it was all constructed in my mind,
fine, you must be keeping memories behind.

and i've got shame, i'm the one to blame
after 5 dates i had in mind baby names,
the fast lane, a love so free of chains,
i know that i'll never feel the same,
forever was a word early introduced,
easily the truth, to a mind so naive,
there were no tricks up sleeves,
no motives beneath,
just you, and me,
in sync, we would breathe.

the words that were said,
mixed with moments in your bed,
you say that you feel misled
but just know one thing,
that it was all truth
and had things not changed
in the way that they did,
you'd have that ring,
you'd have me still,
breathing hearts on windowsills,
s + a, what better way
for a heart to fill?
and i'd **** for us to
be like we were,
but with time comes change,
there is no cure

there is no us, in this current place,
as much as i would like to retrace,
walks on a campus, I can't just,
get by on the warmth of that smile
on your face.

i hope that smile will once again shine,
and that you'll have someone's love
like you once had mine,
and that you'll find room in your heart
for what we once shared,
i dared to care, placed my world
in that stare,
but something faded from your eyes,
impossible to find,
shrunken down to a size,
like it was no longer there,

we never feared that
we'd grow distant over years,
funny how distance,
can make things clear
it was more than kilometers that
came between us,
it was reality,
and an inability to adjust.

and i hope that you realize
that just because i made the choice,
doesn't mean that my voice,
doesn't tremble when
someone you resemble,
walks across my path,
it takes me back,
to a dorm room,
you, me, and calculus math.
a sleepy embrace,
before morning class.

and I wonder, what's behind,
that seemingly blank stare?
is there a fight against the pain
that she cannot share?
would she strive to make a difference,
or still be stuck in this place,
refusing to change a cycle
she's unable to face?

I refuse to believe,
that this was her choice,
I cannot simply accept
the calmness of her voice,
behind that stare,
I see a brilliant fire,
yearning for the fuel,
to be brought higher.

and I wonder..
would she use her voice
to make a sound,
against an uncaring world,
that brought her down?
one that silenced her so quickly,
before she even had a chance,
judged so forcefully,
with a fleeting glance.

and I wonder what could have been,
the moments she's missed..
that awkward first kiss,
the feel of someone's care.
to never walk down the aisle
or feel the warmth of a child,
stripped of that privilege,
unaware, it was even there.

I doubt she'd waste her chance,
like so many of us do,
because behind that stare,
I see a strength, true.
I see a desire, often lacking
in my very own peers,
and I see neglected wisdom,
far beyond my years...

I remember a day,
when the clouds were illuminated,
by a bright pink sky...
everything that seemed important,
just melted away,
and in a stare:
innocence resurfaced,
and was joined by joyous curiosity,
all due to the beauty of
a sky that was pink...
cotton candy over the
dull apartment buildings,
pink lemonade in the sky,
even made smoke stacks pause in awe,
games were stopped,
shovels were dropped,
and collectively we stared,
wide-eyed, smiling brightly,
and all at once,
we reached out to grab a piece,
trying to hold onto its beauty,
but eventually...
black replaced pink,
indifference replaced joy,
acceptance replaced innocence,
and the cotton candy/pink lemonade,
became bitter black licorice,
that not even the man in the moon
could eat.

the cold of your skin
the warmth of mine
it was in the
opposites
that it all made sense

we stirred
together
to a perfect temperature

my rash impulsivity
your calculated drive
it was in the
opposites
that it all made sense

we became
experts
at spontaneous plans

the blatant boom with which i speak
your subdued familiarity
it was in the
opposites
that it all made sense

we would
harmonize
like singers

like lovers