I feel like a clown
makeup running down
my face, from the rain,
the pain of feeling clouds
blocking my sunshine dreams

Knock knock.
I heard it in my sleep,
in my head,
I heard the knocking
between the weather change,
between the fleeting cold mornings
and the calm of the sun on my afternoon skin.
I heard the knock of it all coming together,
the season, waking me from the nightmare.

I seem to lean
into my shadows, failures and faults.
That ***** too natural
and my downward leaning too easy.

What darkness have I learned?
What sullen seed has
merged into the deeper passages
to transform
into thorns?

Is it my repeated stumblings
or the sin of another
inflicted early
but now forgotten?
Maybe it’s so terrible
my mind has stashed it way way down
now a fungus still alive in the dark?

I feel too at home
dwelling in that cave
and I am in need,
I am sorely in need
of light,
enough lasting exposure
to **** the blight
scorch the itch
and set me leaning
into an upward pitch
to thwart the dark

proclivities.

"i can't do anything right"
she says to me

"You can do plenty."
I say to her.

"not really"
she says to me

"Well, you can be here with me."
I say to her.

"anyone can do that"
she says to me

"No. Only you."
I say to her.

Life's too short
To sit and cry
So here's a cake
My good man

Do me a favor
Wear your best smile
The light is coming
For you and I

Rest your head
Today you did your part

Wake on the morrow
Another day to start

When you get down
Tell yourself this:

Today is the struggle
Tomorrow is bliss