The stampede takes off
Lean figures are all around
Our stomps and heavy breathing
Are the only known sounds
As we make our way across the grassy field plane
A familiar presence settles inside
The venom dripping like a cold black rain
Killing us all like an insecticide

Dust clouds surround our heads
Seems to us that our vision is blurry
We needn’t fret; we needn’t worry
What we wouldn’t give to be in our beds

The mind games arrive; our faces contort
The voices in our heads call for mission abort
We don’t dare listen, we don’t dare succumb
To the deadly feelings in which we shall overcome

But the poisonous knots in my stomach flex tighter
And there is nothing that I can do
When I realize with fright
That I may be going closer to the growing light

And the sun rays pierce the dust clouds
We can see our way again
But how long will it be
Until the agony will end?
The wind screams with laughter; the trees turn and watch
As the humans down below turn it up a further notch

Our bodies are at war, and no one wants to lose
Even the most determined shrug past muscular abuse
And now the day is finished; the sweat is dried on our skin
But the memories of the battle are reflected on within

Who needs enemies when denial is your best friend?

When you find every excuse to escape the truth once again.

I was desperate for answers

How could this be?
This wasn’t us.

This wasn’t the plan.

What am I missing?

How can I fix this?

Please help me understand.

I became the master of avoidance.

My punishment, long suffering, forever chasing the wind…

We’re told patience is the key.

Head-strong is a virtue.

But then comes ‘love’ and to hell with all the rules.

Feelings whisper to our souls in tones impossible to ignore… follow me, take my hand.

Don’t let go.

If all else fails we can always try again.  

And so we did.

We tried again.

AND again.  

And AGAIN….

Are we REALLY doing this AGAIN?!

And I’ve had this conversation with myself a million times replayed.

Do I love you?

I mean I do

Wait...

See the truth is, whether I still do or don’t the only question I’ve needed to ask myself all along has been this:

Do YOU love me like I have loved you?

Because it seems that sometimes our mind’s eye feeds us these beautiful lies

like this feels like love…

when it’s anything but.

And we forget

We forget to ask the right questions

Senses irrelevant.

We run blind

Face first into the night

Idolizing these pretty pictures we’ve imagined…

our vision is clouded with what ifs and the magic of ‘possibility’.

We make our make-believe our fake reality.

Operating on feelings completely void of sight…

Like the place where I left the benefit of my doubt, hopelessly settled into the creases of your filthy hands

The rest of your dirt hidden from all the world to see

None of this was ever what it seemed.

Like a sickness this disease of “us” infiltrated every aspect of my being.

You broke away at the foundation of all that I had ever believed…

In my desperation I sought counsel

I fasted and I prayed

Searching every last corner of my heart I laid my offerings upon the alter and let my tears fall…

Petitioning the heavens to intervene.

Tears falling down the soft rounds of my face, burning and purifying my skin all at once each drop like the devil’s hand, a steady knock upon the door of my shattered heart

tempting me to look back...

I turned the dead-bolt, finally destroying your key.

And with my weary soul and this half empty cup I began to pour every last ounce of myself into healing… into all that I am and everything you hate but were so desperate to keep.

With each fragment of the shameful mess you left behind I assemble a new fortress.

Piece by beautiful piece.

My thoughts transpire
my true desires,
focus is dire.
I feel higher
than the Empire
State Building
heart singing,
soul gleaming,
love streaming.
This is the only place
that you'll find me dreaming.

Perhaps it is time, I return to my roots.
Abandoned the topic, never let it bear fruits.
I have grown thin, my feet unfit for its boots.
But linger no longer, I shall return to my roots.

The clockwork gears begin to spin and words connect.
The cobwebs severed, time repairs the neglect.
The pieces of the puzzle slowly conjoin, my pencil *****,
I write down my lines, my latest project.

You know me as glue or Glueboi if preferred.
I know what you think, poems about glue are quite absurd.
But the line between glue and my soul has become blurred.
Gears are in motion, I've returned to my roots, no need to reword.

My effort is rewarded, the project is complete.
A poem about glue that no other poet can beat.
A poem which will be welcomed into the halls of the elite.
My victory tastes oh so sweet.

My anticipation rises, a chance to share with the world once more.
My magnum opus will be shared, my dark world will grow brighter.
It spreads its wings and soars.

When you try yet it's not good enough.
When you do your best yet it's too tough.
When you get better yet you still fail.
When you sacrifice it all
But you're still too frail.
When you think all you can do is crawl
Don't throw it away.
Cherish your soul.
Becuase even tho the clouds are gray
And you're at the bottom of a hole.
Because even tho the Sun is gone
And you want to be done.
You will live on.

And I will stand tall
through the bitter winds
and rains of this life
that have beaten on my bedroom window
since I was a child.

I know now
that the howling winds
and clawed branches
are not monsters
but my own fears
of failure
and the fright
of never again
finding the light
I've been missing all this time.

Though I am cold
and worn
and tired,
I stay awake,
keep watch,
and make sure the
candles are lit for
those who need me,
both near
and far.

For while the winds may screech
at my door,
there is a door for them
to scream at,
and that is more
than many can say.

I write this as another poet sings,
And her words keep tying into mine,
But I flick them out of my knots.
This is from me, for you, for all of time.

Your ladder goes higher than the next few,
And so your journey is more strenuous and long,
But I never worry about that.
I know you'll reach your finish line, where you know you belong.

I will reach down when I can, but often I cannot,
My hands are preoccupied but I can try to balance,
And if I'm unable, I'll call upon others,
And you will reach brilliance.