Just outside, the
rain

plays.  An iron gate is rusting shut
across from

traffic lights
maintaining perfect
indifference
to
a newspaper
on a bench losing its
ink to the gutter.

I get the feeling
you've done this
before.  Now

I see,

I         was             just
                       one
                 part
            of
      the
cycle you like to repeat.

And so it was,
the brief respite attained
through our
lips and arms

and

bodies,

a sunset
mistaken
for a sunrise.

I was just happy to see those
colors stain my sky again,

I refused to
see
the
sun
sinking.

I get the feeling
I've done this before.
Now I see, you   were   just
                                  one
                           part
                     of
               the
        cycle  I  like  to  repeat.

for the poem I lost inside my drawer,
forgive me.

life happened
eyes dampened
glasses moistened
soul unawakened

Stem to bloom pulsing vibrant green,
striving life to groom, Jack’s stock without it’s bean.
Hoping for rain but begging for the sun,
showing signs of strain and the season’s just begun.

The commitment and dependency,
doesn’t cause resentment, nurturing comes naturally.
But no matter the effort I lack a green thumb,
I try to work and assert but I’m just feeling too numb.

Decorate the home and grave,
hint: they’re both the same place.
Dig and plant, my hands; a slave,
decorative dirt smudge on my face.
Seconds to minutes, and minutes to hours,
I play “she loves me, she loves me not” while plucking dead flowers.

Soil embraces the seed but nothing tends to grow,
I cry, sweat and bleed, maybe I dug an inch too low.
Hoping for rain but begging for the sun,
attempt to ignore the pain but the agony has won.

Wiping off stomped and crushed
four leaf clovers off the bottom of my shoe.
Walking through the field I felt I was rushed,
but I just knew I had to get through.
Crisping leaves with light and drowning in strong showers,
I play “she loves me, she loves me not” while plucking dead flowers.

Seasons will come and go,
the sun will rise and will set.
What dies eventually will one day grow,
what we remember we will forget.

I was once a blind man; I sought after something that simply didn't exist.
I climbed the stairs, to reach the roof of the building. Looking down was a sea of hope. I did not want hope~
I tried, I jumped wanting to sprout wings and fly, soar above anything that may put me in harms way.
But like a stalled plane, I fell hard and fast.
I was never this trusting, I sealed my heart within the confines of my eternal jail cell -the mind- hoping it would never escape the darkness.
My weary mind only brought angst and distorted memories.
those feelings I had never wanted to feel again.
Like melted glass, my heart was sculpted from pieces of my broken past.
shattered over and over, I fought for whatever remained but my mind can be malleable. It can be twisted and believe in the lies that one may bring upon myself.
The will to love, to trust, to become one with another was all but forsaken until an enlightening soul entered my life.
How the memories of the taken, were brought back onto my mind and to hell they went for the sins they've committed. I didn't care. I broke the circle and without hesitation ran toward the inflicted. They were torn. Just like I.
They're heart shattered just like I.
I saw them, atop the same building.
About to jump.
But it was then I realized, it was me. Again and again the cycle continued.
I was the one who pulled myself toward the hope.
I was the one who wanted to love again.
I never wanted to grow wings, to glide into the vanta night sky alone once again.
I never wanted solitude
I realized myself.  Who I am, who i'm meant to be.
The sins I commit are ones i'm proud to speak for if they are sins at all; why should I abandon those who sought to condemn me to hell?
I am a man of my own free will. I am a man who seeks his own happiness. I am a man who controls his life.
I am me.