How much was enough
As her daily breaths
Were strains
Each movement
Cautiously taken
In order to avoid pain
With every day
Restricting more and more
Her body retreating
Shrinking into
A thin skin creature
Few ever knew
Spirit crumbling
In waiting
Leaving almost baldness
Goblinesque features
Till the end

I am a deeply flawed collaborator
Looking back at the past
In old photographs
I catch a glimpse of
Someone I once loved
And my stomach churns
With an acidic burn
That crawls up my gut

She is a smiling memory
In cliché haunting me
Not dead but not who
She used to be
Fourteen years ago

I wrote her poetry
To express what she meant to me
But she had to leave
To join the military

In one of those silly vows
We promised to be together
If we were still single
When we were thirty or forty
She has probably forgotten that

The white navy hat
The uniform of black
If I could go back
I would not

But to be honest
The loves we lose
Will probably always
Haunt us
But it sure makes
For good poems

Can’t Sleep

The heat will not let me sleep. Sweat pouring into my crevices as I move my seat back and down. Twin trickles slide down my temples. The exhaustion tickles my already fuzzy and tingly brain. Thoughts become clouds creating new forms of stormy confusion.
I need one hour to at least regain my rationality. I roll to the left slipping my black shoes off, because I sleep better barefoot. I roll to my right, shifting the keys in my side pocket so they won’t stab me. Still, I cannot sleep. I roll down my window and place a small black jacket up, to block out part of the sun. The white interior reflects some of the heat but not enough to let me sleep.
The weatherman promised rain, but I would settle for snow or sleet; anything to reduce this heat. I close my eyes to try breathing exercises. It doesn’t work. I try making a blindfold out of a shirt. It doesn’t work. I try daydreaming to relax, but it doesn’t work.
Now I have to go to work. I am sure I smell like smelly car. It is a beautiful day and I am sure the night will be quite gorgeous as well but I got a fourteen hour shift ahead of me and I am dog tired. ****, I wish I had been able to sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------

Afte­r I Finally Got Some Sleep

I awake, slightly sweaty. Eyes blurred, sleep dust crusting up. A lump of sorrow fills my gut. I recall arms around someone I loved, holding on to her. I recall love. I recall happiness.
It is all an illusion. That soft skin lay only within the realms of dreams.  Vividly she appears to me. Her smile, her long red hair, her *******, the softness of her belly held gently with interlocking arms. Her voice is only a construct of my memory as it tries to put together the specifics of that wonderful dream.
What a dream girl. Maybe she was that girl from that tv show I used to love. The last dream like that she was a girl I knew fourteen years ago. If I could I would go back to sleep, trade in the coldness of this reality for the wonderful love. But it is too hot, and I have to go to work.

I am in an eating mood today.
A wag would say 'sure what's new?'
But I know the difference.
It's a matter of control and
Today I have no control.

I'm in the grip of it today.
An optimist would say 'think yourself lucky.'
Because it's not drink or drugs.
It can often feel as hopeless and
Today is a hopeless day.

I worry about my weight today.
A cynic would say 'just stop eating.'
Sure all it takes is willpower.
But willpower is not for the weak and
I feel weak today.

I will try to rise above it today.
A pessimist would say 'can't be done'.
But I can't listen to myself anymore.
I need to stand up taller and
Believe tomorrow is not today.