some nights fold in on themselves
after too many years and decades
spent emptying oneself for others

like old letters re-opened accusing
from where they'd been laid to rest
found in yellowing files and folders

debris stirring from the shadows
unsettles the window ledge dust
irritating the membranes of scent

as memory floods with questions
tagging along like curious children
squabbling about whose fault it was

that we sit writing with brimming eyes
with the kind of solitary regret and shock
that comes when bodies in a silent house

wander around aimlessly trying to fill time
with their pointless pursuits and blinded eyes
imagining just another hit from some website

will stave off stories of their past they shelved
for nights like this when the spectres return
to bring the bill from aged secrets banished

you didn't come to my funeral
now you ask if i want to dance

you want to reach out
but i've already sunken
you're wrong if you see me glow
the light isn't for you

i've followed you before
climb to you, swim to you
but you can't see me try
you didn't try to

i don't blame you
but don't blame me

do you remember the time
when you said that you
wished you could send me back?
that you wished
you had never adopted me?

do you remember
when i called you a
substitute mother?

I was only 6
years old,
but i should have known better.

the first half of my life,
i was the problem.
i broke rules—
broke trust.

broke you.

eight years later,
everything was a fight.
i didn’t hate you,
but i hated our relationship
because it was a minefield.

ten years later,
and we’re teetering on the edge
where anything i do
can send us over.

i almost miss the constant fighting
because at least i felt angry
instead of scared.

scared of doing the wrong thing,
because i always do, every time.

at least then,
i did not have to live with
the knowledge of my guilt.

but i should feel guilty,
but it hurts.

but i should be hurting,
because you are hurt.

i want to scream,
“𝑰 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑱𝑼𝑺𝑻 𝑨 𝑲𝑰𝑫”,
but you were just a mother
being dismissed
by a child who you only
ever wanted to love.

now, i am the one
whose every mistake
weighs heavy
because it is one
out of a tall, tall stack.

now, i am reaping
what i sowed,
and swallowing
the bitter fruit.

Lying, exposed,
I've made myself
A sacrificial lamb
On the altar of
The unmade bed.
Time and again
I offer myself
To a merciless, wrathful
God, a wolf, a serpent
A blasphemous act
Against my unclaimed heart.
These are no Gods
Towering over me,
Only vultures picking me
To scraps.

Throughout the life of this lonely traveler, one thing has been true.

No one knows the burdens of a truthful, man.

Women pine, quake and laugh about the piteous concerns, and lies of, men.

But, no man has ever exposed the truth of women and their lies.



Clothes to cover up, aging flesh, morose temperament, and the scars of woe & wrath.

Mascara, the dark filth of the earth, to cover tired eyes and the depth of secrets in the soul.

Paint, to cover the cracks of age, and the true doom of the beautiful, yet withering, rose that is youth.

White lies, that blind and twist the fabric of a man's sense of truth and wonder about his love.



The lies are small, the vanity deep, and the wrinkles like rivers that are of broken reason. Trickling; yet, like veins in the eye,

The blood of falsity bleeds deep into the twisted soul of the lying woman. The illusion.

The lies are. Small. Yet each day, each month, each year, they are built skyward, like bricks in a chimney.

The smoke from within is putrid and rife with the anger of misunderstanding and emotional vapor.



The chimneys I see reveal factories of deceit and compulsive irony. The make-up of woman-kind.

They beg for truth, yet hide everything but tears to the eyes of their coddled lovers.

Each man, a babe; helpless to the hammer and clock of heart break to come.

A woman will tell one lie to save your soul... then tell another, to sell it to carrion. The lost.



I am lost. I am a vulture to truth and I am sickened by the taste of greed for love.

They tell me, they hurt, because one man broke promises meant to churn the engines of love...

Yet they continue to stir the cauldron of their own false worries and stifle the honesty of love.

What do they want? My soul? My. Soul? I will give it. I will bury it in the grave of pity, I will.



I will shovel out all the hope, dreams and promises I have to give and empty out a nest; in there.

I have burrowed out the ache and the pain of the bricks and lies women have told me, just to make home for new residence.

When I watch the walls crumble from the coom and cuss, of their idiocy, I will simply clean up the mess.

I have no more to give, but what I hope to be and what I hope to have once I find the woman without lies.



Truth is, men are masters, 'because' of women. Physical strength is all that keeps them at bay, because they, once, slaved us to their needs, we tipped the balance and hold the chain of destiny, in hopes of taming the horses that pull the chariot of angels.

The woman I see, riding the chariot is fierce and bright, like the light that shines that forms the ever-present sun.

I watch her until she passes by and wait for an empty return.

As I am here, with an empty soul... For. New. Residence.



The emotional man, is whipped and beaten by that chariot-woman. She laughs and curses me into the dirt.

But, I stand up righteous in my pursuit for the honest woman. The 'giving' woman.

She waits upon the highest tower, letting down the chains of our bond, to give me flight to the heavens.

... Until then. I simply. Have.

No woman.

Go alone
Go scared
Go overwhelmed
Just go.

Now is the right time.
You're thinking about doing it.
So go.

Do not talk yourself out of it.
Recall all the changes you've ever made:

Trick question - you cannot -

There’s immeasurably many
Just know that almost all have been uncomfortable.

It’s better to live with the regret of doing
Rather than having not.
Train yourself to try

You cannot circumvent the discomfort
You can welcome and embrace the growth.

To erase all my love for you,
I buried my heart six feet under.
You like to visit that graveyard,
to lay flowers upon my grave.
Your tears soak the earth,  
begging for a second chance
Taking the shovel in both hands,
you began digging.
My heart still beats, so fast, unevenly
For you and only you
Holding the heart very gently,
you come after me,
with the purpose of restoration

In the middle of my ignorance
I believed our love would stay
Though you had nothing to lose
If you disappeared and ran away

And that's exactly what you did
When you realized I was afraid
I had nearly forgot the loneliness
That was keeping me awake

You understood I was alone
And I welcomed you to stay
So you could tell me all the reasons
Why you wanted it this way

But once you slammed the door
And couldn't stand me anymore
I fell into deep depression
With my eyes fixed on the floor

Solemn regret swept over me
Cause I can see you were ignored
I was fighting inner demons
While our relationship was torn

So in the end I am to blame
I should have met you in the rain
Before you walked into the storm
Before your hands had closed the door

Its been a month, I can seem to find
The words to say, or get you outta my mind
How I wish you looked back, to give closure
Knowledge won't end suffering, lack of exposure

How it must feel, to get rid of me
How my heart yearns, for what may seem
To be the old you I created in my head
Was it all a dream? Should I go back to bed

And even now, even now, I still defend your name
Even now, even now, I still take all the blame
For my words might attack you and cause you to leave
But you made it so thats all I had under my sleeves

I regret, that words cut so deep
I'm upset that i'm losing sleep
Wish I'd forget, Like you seem to do
What'd I expect? Is this a sign from You

And even now, even now, I wish you'd feel the same
Even now, even now, I wish you would come claim
The broken pieces of my heart I can't fix
Friendships turn toxic when romance is in the mix

But I guess, it would be mature
To just let go, and to be assured
That your life is going par for the course
Maybe my existence was a part of the cause
Where you couldn't seem to move on from the lack of resource

Even now, I wish I cut out my tongue
Even now, I wish we still stayed young
I wish forgiveness was as easy as the books make it seem
You were book-nerd and explained how they made you cry a stream
Now I see that not all books have happy endings
Some don't even end, wasting the time you're spending

Even now, you're a muse I abuse
And even now, I just wish I could choose
what thoughts entered in my head
And if it would affect you if you ever read

Even now, I wish you the best