I didn't even ask
To be your sun
Or your moon.

All I wanted
was to be
Your Sunday afternoons.

How many empty calendars spaces
I wasted,
Waiting for you.

"That's outrageous!" He said.
"You're a ******* fool" I muttered.
That's pennies on the dream.
If you think that the four dollars
   And 29 cents is for a piece of plastic with some ink and a ballpoint then you're probably just making a grocery list.
A pen  is not for scribbling to do lists.
There is an app for that.

A pen is for unlocking dreams and opening windows.
It's for recording the nightmares and victories of a life worth living.
If you don't have PTSD from one thing or another by 28, then you aren't living right.

"You're a madman" he chuckled.
Maybe so.
But I think the price is worth it.

Little by little I'm learning to swim
In this silent ocean made of endless drops
A drop, a memory, a fragment of myself
They surround each stroke, as I hope not to stop

The moment I stop, I'll slowly begin to sink
Deeper and deeper, struggling for air
Engulfed by dark waters I've tried to avoid
The pressure so high, it's something I can't bare

So little by little I'm learning to swim
Each stroke taking me farther, making me feel new
As I aim for the horizon of ocean yet to come
A single drop rains down, filled with a thought about you

One drop, that's all it takes, to disrupt my calm sea
Small ripples turn into waves steadily drawing near
Pushing me back under, with each passing ring
Each filled with you, who once brought me cheer

Little by little I'm learning to swim
We used to float together, exploring hand in hand
Now alone in this ocean I keep pushing forward
Hoping to see a new joy, waving from warm sand

Brains out
   wired wrong
Inclined to see the dark
     And shadows
       But
   We forget
That we only see shadows
     because the sun was shining
And we only know sweet joy
   Because we tasted
     Bitter pain

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.