What despair, this bleak existence causes
In pain and suffering unending
With no escape and no forbearance
How does one cope with immortality
And the inability to cease
What recourse, as empathy bleeds
From every attempted connection
Lost or denied, broken or abandoned
Like the innocence of childhood
As hope fades into hurt and love turns to ash
And the taste of dust consumes all
What divine punishment is this
What curse is laid upon the ******
To cause such immeasurable torment
Rage at the chains that bind life and soul to flesh and bone
Who holds the lit flame to burn the world to the ground
Or to cast light onto the blighted and reviled
If there is no finality and no surcease
When does time become irrelevant
As seconds and epochs are ones in the same
Is there no why, no how
To combat such strife
To bear conflict to the oppression of reality
Is a fools errand, a childish whimsy
Beaten down and shattered upon the indifferent earth
No warmth can ward off the chill of eternity
Peace, serenity, passion, and ambition are lies
Told to distract the youth from
The truth of what is to come
Falsehoods and fabrications woven
Into tapestries of feigned glory and imagined pride
As the stars flicker and sniff out
Does ever the watcher still ache
For what was and what could have been
Know now that this neither fate nor destiny
It just is, as the lonely tide washes away
All that was known and all that was
Until all that remains is solitude and tears
That never fall and never leak
They might even be a myth
For none, but one, will ever know the truth
Remorse and fear long since missing
Where does infinity begin to lose meaning
The vessel, now empty, floats on currents invisible
No attachment lies unbroken
As inevitable betrayals follow the pale rider
And the boatman beckons all, save for the solitary figure
Trapped and bound to witness beyond the end of all things
Can this pact not be negated, is it profane to desire escape
No answer can be found, for the question is, like all else
Meaningless
As sanity collapses, like a wave upon the shore
As breath is stolen by the void
Is the weight of apathy a burden or a boon
Torturous promises lay rent asunder
And the towering rise of once quenched thirst for joy topples
Can emptiness be it's own reward

No sweet tooth have I
A sharp edge to my tongue.
The bitter keen North wind
Is bite-strong and savoured.
Winter storms soothe
Cold salve on the heartsore.
Life-water drunk deep
Is all peat smoke and pyres.

1) to solitude: for embracing my current and unavoidable state of being, not in useless ponder or contemplation, but in a organic yet intentional direction towards self forgiveness, and a transforming journey, and realization, into “being”; as described by Eckhart Tolle in “The Power of Now”. for allowing me the gift of space within, to bear fruit to earnest honesty, yet foment Light for future plans, in virtuous manner, without dream-like delusions or self torment from the past.

2) to the, slow yet obvious, dissolving of the Ego via realization, and active practice thereof, of the “observer”: as opposed to the “thinker”, which bore gorgeous fruit to disassociation from the “earthly”, and incredibly vain, self and its incessant attachment to it via unconscious living.

Tell me then how to face this day,
As the coward that would avert his gaze?
Untold days spent lost and slaved to sand,
Hand in hand with the chains of time.
Or should we grasp it as would a man?
By throat and pain and circumstance,
Each rage at our command.

For promised lands are paved with pride.
The consequence of shifting tides
Once known and a matter of course.
But these seas lay uncharted
Horizon bleak and endarkened
By the shadow of a brewing storm.

My lover goes traveling with a backpack of things
Her eyes are always on the distance
She is a wanderer at heart and a sentimental hoarder
I wonder how she walks invisible and still takes up the room
But she doesn’t wonder at all
When she leaves she cleans up after herself like it’s the scene of a crime
Sometimes I think I don’t know her
And I am just the things she carries
When she leaves she will clean up after herself
And there will be nothing left of me to see

What if I died-
Today, tomorrow?
Later?
What weight does it have
Gravity; all that sorrow?

The weight of it all-
Pain, fear, love, happiness, and
All other emotions of all sorts
Suddenly turn to mist;
A weightless,
Dream.

Was I wrong to feel things too deeply?
When every single thing-
That mattered too deeply
Is bound to be a faded memory?
What does strength in this life even mean,
To those eventual weightless dreams?

Perhaps, it is a curse
That when I pause
And breathe
It felt okay
To feel,
And to feel deeply
Even when it is all bound to be
A weightless, faded memory.

_

"Let me go, set me free,

I'll come back if it's meant to be."


A pronouncement, not a choice.

Then she said, with tears in her voice,


"If you ever loved or respected me,

Don't call me anymore, please."


I couldn't argue, it wasn't my place.

Plus, she said, "I'll call you, I just need space."


She didn't believe in destiny or fate,

Or being locked to a future that she didn't make.


I don't believe in fate either, it's a moral vacation.

It's my belief that destiny is simply ones destination.


Was it such an insult that I once believed,

That we were so well matched we were meant to be?


Did our destinations just not intersect?

I waited for years, I never thought she'd forget.


Finally I worked up the nerve to leave word with her parents.

She called back, indifferent, but said she'd make an appearance.


Years of silence, now suddenly we're meeting at eight.

Nervous and scared I waited, she was only fashionably late.


We talked and caught up for an hour as we ate,

Though the butterflies only let me pick at my plate.


Just outside, she said she didn't have long,

But come sit in the car, and she'd play me a song.


I sat shaking in the dark van and I listened.

Well, to tell truth I tried, but was so nervous I didn't.


I tried to be cool, but underneath I was a mess.

Somehow I found the guts to blurt, "Can I have your email address?"


I agonized and worried, I tortured myself and fought.

What should I say?!  Bah! Just be honest, I thought.


Heart in throat, I emailed her, I told her I was still stuck.

She replied with an ice bath, "Too bad, get over it, goodbye, best of luck."


I'd love to tell you I was stoic, strong, and poetic.

In reality, I stumbled around like a zombie for years, it was pathetic.


I tried again a decade later, total fiasco of course,

I was lost and emotional and going through a divorce.


She was nice but aloof, she said, "If I'm on your list."

It set me off balance and gave the conversation a dark twist.


I read into her words with my own bitter pain,

And earned the response, "Don't message me again."


Time heals all wounds, after a while, it was OK, am I right?

Sorry, but nightmares still trouble me night after night.


I dunno if it's Covid, or I just know one day I'll be dead...

But I have to try and get this stuff out of my head.


Rip it out of my chest and wrestle it onto the paper.

Maybe, with enough words, I can start to fill in the crater.

If I could quit you
If I could resist

If the truth did not ring true
If the pain did not persist

If the sun were to fail to shine
If I didn't live for dreams of rain

If they didn't drip-dry into this heart of mine
If I didn't weave them into and between every refrain

If I lost myself and I couldn't remember why
If I could ignore that you're not here, holding my hand

If I could picture your picture and refuse to cry
If I wasn't on my knees, if I was able to stand

If there was a drug to take to make me forget
If it erased longing, and sorrow, and pain, and regret

If I could simply eat it and you'd disappear
If I could just drink it and drift off, free of fear

If I pretended to want these things to come true
I would only be lying to myself, trying to spare you